Psychedelic Hollow
by Oceania
Summary: Sequel to Homecoming. Completed Frank's about to marry Calle but when Conrad Daye (Case 45) asked him for help, he couldn't refuse out of kindness and an odd friendship. Nancy crossing over.
1. 1

Psychedelic Hollow

AU, Crossover. Sequel to **Homecoming**

PG-15

Joe scanned the crowd- it was a subdued lot, much more sedentary than what he was accustomed to but he couldn't expect too much energy in a wine bar 'n' pub- definitely not those raucous nightclubs that he had spent too many nights wasting his life and sleep hours away during the past few years when he was down in the doldrums. However, after his tumultuous emotions had settled down- after he sought help for his angry state- for nights of uproarious fun and dance, he would re-visit the pubs with an alcoholic limit on himself. Right then, due to the injuries he sustained in the previous case, the alcoholic limit had just plummeted down to a resounding "NO!" in his mind and none-too-oddly, in a voice that uncannily resembled Frank's.

If it wasn't for Frank's recommendation, Joe wouldn't even be there. There were times that the band wasn't playing when Joe almost dozed off. It was definitely the band that grudgingly convinced hyperactive people like him to sacrifice some of their Friday nights inside this mellowed place. _Yah_, Joe mused as he clapped after one amazing rendition of The Beatles, "Hey Jude". Callie's eyes shone with pride as some college girls cheered and whistled, obviously enamored with the band since they didn't seemed like the wine loving sort. Seeing his brother up on stage perched atop a high stool with a mike stand in front of him as he crooned the background vocals to sentimental, soft rock while strumming his guitar, Joe couldn't help but thought that the scene was a bit of an irony. He was the handsome and cool one with the dreams of joining a band some day but his brother, the tech nerd, was the Hardy Boy who would fulfill that ambition. After all, Frank, according to Callie, was the regular non-regular member of the three-men guitar band helmed by William Ranton, Frank's college roommate.

_Ok. Frank's good-looking but I'm better looking,_ Joe thought, watching the band with a pouting face, _In fact, if I do say so myself, I'm one darn hot looking guy in need of a thesaurus so I can better describe my 'good-lookingness' in better details. Man! Couldn't he wave me up to just jam one number or something with them? I can play the guitar too!_

A slight twinge of jealousy carved a hollow in his chest as he spotted a pretty, brown-haired girl walking up to William during the brief few seconds' intermission to the next song. As usual, William, a lanky man with long, razor-sharp black hair curtaining his brown eyes while elongating his too thin and sharp face, would read the request slip, smile and then the band would play something different. The song would arrive, as Joe noticed because he sent one up himself anonymously, at the end of each set with the exception of one or two special and urgent requests slotted in the middle of the prepared numbers.

Callie leaned over the table, her glass of cocktail still full. Joe had been eying his friends' alcoholic drinks thirstily as he sipped his orange juice with some distaste. The injury sustained during their last case had forced him to abstain from certain regular aspects of his nights' entertainment- temporary, he hoped. But because his liver had been hurt (but healed extremely well) next to his spleen and half of his pancreas taken out, certain foods were anathema as dictated by his strict, draconian doctor and seconded by Frank and his parents- foods like alcohol. In fact, for this outing, Frank had been apprehensive as he didn't want to place Joe in "proximity of temptation" but desired for his little brother to come and idol-worship his guitar prowess. Thus, he had Biff act as babysitter, giving Biff, who had specially flown into Bayport from Arkansas for Frank's impending wedding with Callie, the okay to break Joe's arm if Joe even remotely touched anything alcoholic.

"He's really good, you know. This is what he does to break away from the realities of his chosen career."

"Well, he never told me… he told me he jams sometimes with a band but I never thought it was regular and professional… I thought he meant those aimless garage kind of stuff." Joe muttered, dourly impressed. He was feeling both proud and sour but he couldn't help it and wasn't going to apologize for his emotions. Frank would understand and Frank would, if he whined long enough, get him to play with the band some day. And then, one of his dreams would be fulfilled- he had many of those "dreams" and "ambitions", the most enduring one being becoming filthy rich. A filthy rich and devilishly handsome private investigator, a filthy rich and devilishly handsome rock star, a filthy rich and devilishly handsome professional football player-he was inherently blessed with the devilishly handsome part and had decided to go with the private investigator passion- time to do something about the filthy rich facet.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you kinda knew about it, though you misunderstood the information, earlier than us. He told me he called you first and you laughed about it, asking him if the band plays songs like Do-Re-Mi while dressed as fairytale characters to kids. It's about a year ago- he accepted William's invitation for a guest spot and then, it became something he couldn't let go of. The applause keeps him playing though he's busy." Callie sipped her drink, her eyes dreamy. 

"You can hardly hear him sing…but you can hear him croak!" Chet drawled, rather out of it already after only one drink- a diluted house-pour. The rotund good friend of the brothers then let out a high-pitched giggle before slumping down further on the comfortable armchair he was seated on. The place was cozy with low tables flanked by armchairs, lit by scant orange lights and a candle flame atop each table. Joe could really fall asleep in the setting easily. As it was, Chet's eyes were already half-closed

"Shut up!" Callie slapped Chet's hand, eliciting another round of giggles from the guy. "I won't be seeing him until our wedding day after this so all of you better keep quiet. He promised me a surprise."

"Oh, he's going to serenade to you?" Joe asked and Callie blushed before shrugging. 

"Most likely… given the setting." 

"Ow… that'll be so sweet. How about we throw a snake on stage to see if he freaks out halfway through the song? That will be a real test for him- get bitten by a snake or finish singing a song to Cal…Argh… hey, sister, you develop a mean right hook!" Biff yelped, rubbing the sore spot on his arm where Callie had punched him. Joe pointed to his husky good friend and laughed derisively.

"You're so weak, brother!"

"Yah… wait till she hits you!"

"I'll hit anyone who dares to badmouth my Frank! So you guys better watch your mouths and shut up!" Callie admonished them before staring at the stage admiringly again, with a huge grin on her face. Talk about a speedy change of facial expression. Joe caught Frank winking at Callie and saw Callie giving him a flying-kiss. Choking back on a sudden laugh, he nudged Biff and nodded towards Callie. 

"She hadn't even married him and she's already a monster. I kinda pity my brother."

"Hah, don't let her hear you. So, how's life for you?"

Joe snorted, shaking the juice in his glass, "Life's as usual. Growing old. If it's not for Hallie, I think I'll go crazy."

"Ow… don't say that. You know, I wrote an email to Vanessa lately."

"You have?" Joe asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "What did she say?"

"Oh… she's experiencing new stuff in Hong Kong. Looks like Phil's brother is taking very good care of her. You know, if you want her back, I think you really have to go there and seek her out."

"To what end? So I can tell her I love her in Cantonese and hope she'll be so touch that I learnt another language just to romance her? We're not in high school anymore. She can do as she pleases."

"You're singing a pretty different tune from a week ago." Biff raised a questioning brow, "Met a new pretty girl?"

Joe stuck a tongue in his cheek, rather annoyed, "What does my change in philosophy has to do with another pretty girl?"

"The cure to losing love is having another love." Biff opined, a half-smile creeping up the side of his lips, "Or, in your case, many new loves."

"I'm not a teenager anymore… besides, I have Hallie to think about. If I look for someone else, she'll have to be someone who can love Hallie like her own." Joe wrinkled his nose disapprovingly as the band went into another number- a very slow ballad. They could benefit from his guitar tabs on faster-tempo rock songs.

"Your friend, Elle? The one you gushed about sometimes?" 

"I don't gush about Elle…" Joe wagged a cautionary finger at Biff, "She has someone else and she isn't exactly the motherly sort."

"And what's the motherly sort? Vanessa?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Joe gulped down his orange juice and waved at the waitress to order a Pierre. Orange juice and water- the stuff he drank at pubs nowadays, when he could go to the pubs, of course, rather reflect his life now as opposed to wild parties, alcohol and getting pissed drunk for no reason. Not that he was resenting his fatherly responsibilities but at times, he really wanted someone to share the burden with. Sure, he had Laura, Fenton and Aunt Gertrude, who had just returned from her sabbatical in Europe, to share the load at home but he desperately wished for someone around to share the joys, the trials, the frustrations and heartaches of watching Hallie grow up - someone female, someone warm and someone soft. Someone he could hug at night and cuddle to sleep. Someone who he could baby and who would baby him. Someone he could love and who loved him back. Someone to fill the emptiness in his stomach that was more than just hunger.

Vanessa was becoming less and less like 'the someone'. He didn't think she loved him anymore. Besides, she was so far away. When the sun was setting down on him, it was rising up to greet her.

The love songs he was hearing now only cut the wound that Vanessa inflicted on his heart deeper. But for Frank, he would suffer it through. The waitress came with his water and he took several gulps, chewing on the ice for distraction.

"And now, for our last number, we have a special request by one of our band members. Frank, as you guys should know by now, is getting married to lovely Callie… Callie, wave and say 'Hi!'" William teased Callie from the stage and Joe could feel her cringing next to him, embarrassed. The entire room turned to the back and smiled at her, happy for the two of them. Frank was grinning widely and Joe draped an arm across Callie's shoulders, speaking from the corner of his lips. 

"Hey, sis, wave, say 'Hi'!"

"Shut up!" Callie muttered but she managed to lift her right hand diffidently in acknowledgement of the pub regulars' blessings.

"And now, I shall relinquish my lead singing to Frank. If we sound terrible, please don't think it's me or us. It's him. But the things we do in the name of love." William joked, earning a brief look of ire from the dark-haired young man. However, without much ado, Frank leaned over and spoke into the microphone, his words jesting but his voice husky with emotions.

"Callie, may you remember this as we go cold turkey from each other until the wedding day. I hope I can survive but please, let me call you at least ten times in a day." He pleaded with puppy-dog's eyes and she giggled nervously, taking quick sips of her drink- awkward, blushing but in bliss.

Joe wondered just how tacky Frank could be. But the crowd loved the declarations of love. They whistled and clapped, showing their approval blatantly. Joe joined in the clamor as well, happy for his brother and very amused. Frank had grown much less inhibited during his absence. Maybe, without Joe, the outgoing clown of the Hardy Boys, Frank's character had to do some adjustments and it seemed like his brother had adapted very well.

The noise died down as the band strummed the gentle melody and chords. Joe was rather surprise at his brother's vocals- sure, Frank wasn't exactly a professional but he could hold a tune and the slightly hoarse quality of his voice had a rawness to it, a quality some people might find appealing. His love for Callie broadcasted to all not by the lyrics of the song but by the heartfelt manner in which he sang. Yet, Frank couldn't have picked a more apt song to mock Joe's sentiments that night as memories, dredged out by his conversation with Biff, blared in his mind. Looking away from his friends when his eyes grew misty, he quickly swiped the stray tears away as an old bitterness made its presence felt in the cavity of his stomach. 

_So, bro. You're getting married. Good for you! Me? I'll steer clear of the other species from now on, they're nothing but trouble. _

_*"I would die for you_

_Climb the highest mountain_

_Baby, there's nothing I wouldn't do…"_

_But you have to know, Frank. I went into marriage thinking that love will conquer all. I was willing to do everything it takes to keep us together. Somehow, it just isn't that enough. I love her so much but I hate her intensely for leaving. What's yours is yours, huh? _

_"I was standing_

_All alone against the world outside_

_You were searching_

_For a place to hide_

_Lost and lonely_

_Now you given me the will to survive_

_When we're hungry… Love will keep us alive…"_

He puffed his cheeks before exhaling heavily; the imagined conversation with Frank left him feeling more depressed than before. It wasn't like he wanted to be a grouch when it came to love- he could remember clearly to a more innocent time when he embraced it with open arms and had such wild expectations of what it could bring and what it could do. With a side glance, he spotted teary-eyed Callie sniffing as she smiled at Frank. The love they had for each other communicated across the room and everyone present could feel its wings fluttering by. As the sweet aura of their coupling percolated the small, cozy establishment, so did it twined around Joe's melancholia, augmenting the forlornness inside of him which remained since Vanessa broke his heart years ago and then, shattered it further by leaving him and Hallie behind.

_"When we're hungry… Love will keep us alive..."_

He smiled, feigning mirth, raising a toast to Frank, congratulating him for casting another spell on Callie's soul. There was no way these two lovebirds wouldn't spend the rest of their lives together. Chasing his blues away, he wouldn't let self-indulgence into his woes mar his happiness for his brother- Frank and Callie more than deserved Joe's unadulterated blessings.

_"When we're hungry… Love will keep us alive…"_

_But you know what?_ Joe mused poignantly as he failed to keep trudging into moroseness, _It doesn't really keep us sane._

***

Nancy drove through the uptown section downtown Bayport where she had made a last minute room reservation with one of the two grander hotels in the small city. Right then, she had a sneaking suspicion that life was playing a satire on her. She had declined Frank's wedding invitation, citing work as a reason and while it was true, it wasn't entirely the whole truth. For a month, she had been working on a case and it had led her almost nowhere since her informer had vanished on her after turning over to purely vice without a conscience again. The skies must be splitting with laughter because, as events would turn out, her case led her to Bayport at a time so close to Frank's wedding with Callie. And she could foresee, as statistics from the past could readily lay testimony, that there was no way she could carry her investigations clandestinely from the Hardys and may even need their help. This was after all, their turf.

A little less close in the recent couple of years, Frank still kept her updated on his life via email and the occasional phone call. As for Joe, he had probably forgotten that he used to work on cases with a strawberry blond-haired girl from River Heights but Nancy was willing to bet that the name, Bess Marvin, would ring a bell in the undisputed playboy turned devoted father. How their lives had changed- she had thought that she and the Hardys, namely Frank, would still be good friends but distance and hectic work schedules had taken their tolls on the friendship. During college days, Frank could, on impulse, travel down to New York where she was studying just to have a cup of coffee with her. Yet, something happened, something she couldn't quite understand, and the closeness diminished in an instant. When she finally plucked the courage to ask Frank about it, maybe come to some closure or open new doors, his invitation card came and the idea was dropped like a hot potato.

A slight drizzle mist her windscreen and, with some irritation, she flicked the wipers' switch on and squint her eyes against the streetlamps' light reflected by the water droplets. Downtown Bayport should be easy to maneuver through and at 1:30 a.m. in the morning, the traffic was extremely smooth, due to its non-existence. Yet, she couldn't find the hotel and she was exhausted from the plane ride. Finally, she spotted a neon green arrow emblazoned with the hotel's name pointing into a corner that she had missed on her previous round traveling down the same stretch, and turned in. There were a few cars coming out from the basement car park as she drove in, blowing at her fringe in relief when she saw that the car park had quite a few vacant spots.

She stopped her car at a corner lot and was just about to step out when the invitation card slipped out of the back compartment of her tote bag. The thorn of an unanswered question pierced her heart again as she couldn't help but read the wedding details on the card for the umpteenth time. And for the umpteenth time, she had to contend with the fact that the name next to Frank's wasn't hers.

_You never know what you really want until it's gone, do you, Drew?_

Smiling sadly, she slotted it back into the compartment and climbed out of her rented red car to retrieve her luggage. A short distance after, she heard a familiar voice from behind and spun around, her heart leaping wildly with the glimpse of the achingly familiar dark brown hair and smiling eyes.

_*Love will Keep Us Alive, The Eagles, Hell Freezes Over (1994)_


	2. 2

Psychedelic Hollow 2

itsmeoean@hotmail.com

"All right. All in." Frank, with a guitar slung over his back, slammed the lid of the car boot down and grinned at the two guys next to him- a skinny black-hair guy and a pretty studious looking blond. "Have to go now. Callie's waiting for me."

"Joining us for a drink?" The blond man asked with a raised brow.

"Nay, it's late. I have to send her home…" He twisted his lips and shrugged, "Hate her stupid rule about not meeting for a week prior to the wedding."

"It'll do the both of you good. Gets you all anxious. When you see her walking down the aisle, she'll be the loveliest sight to your eyes. Mary did that to me too and man, it works. Fireworks on our nuptial night, if you get what I mean." The black-haired guy clapped Frank's back, "Good night, buddy. Hope you have a grand time tonight with us."

"Yup, I did. Great to be playing again. Good night." Frank waved at them and just as he was about to turn around into Nancy's direction, she quickly spun on her heels, hoping that he couldn't see her, which was about the dumbest wish she could ever make. She was merely a few meters away from him and there was nothing in between them. It was no surprise when she heard him exclaiming with some shock.

_Hmm, She thought as she kept her head low and tried to just casually walk away, __Maybe__ my hair can hide my face._

"Drew! You're here!"

Turning around with as much decorum as she could, she mustered up a bright smile and shrugged, "Hey, Hardy…I'm so busted." 

"Damn right you are…" Increasing his pace, it was a mere couple of seconds before he was just right in front of her and she was finding it hard to breathe as a lump of something regretful lodged in her throat. Pulling her into a friendly hug, she thought returning the gesture was right about the hardest thing she had ever done in the last few years. Stepping back, he held her at arms length by her shoulders and gave her a once over, arching an appreciative brow, "My… you've blossomed since college."

"And you look the same…" Nancy ruffled his hair, trying to be unaffected. "Still having your stupid hair falling all over your eyes."

"I have no time to cut it lately, with the wedding preparations and all…but I intend to treat myself to a hair spa two days before the wedding." Frank grinned. Suddenly, the mirth on his face dissolved into a look of sternness. "I thought you can't make it to my wedding, busy FBI agent… what give?"

"Hey… I'm here, aren't I?" Nancy explained anxiously, wondering why Frank, slow to anger, would suddenly fly into a cold temper. He glowered at her and she cringed, desperate for an apology when he broke into guffaws and punched her arm playfully, like a buddy would.

_Yup, punch my arm. I'm just an old buddy. Old female buddy. _

"I am kidding! Planning to surprise me? Man… it's good to have you here. Was very disappointed when you said you couldn't make it. Funny how we knew each other for so long but you have never met Callie before." Frank nodded towards the entrance to the hotel in the car park, "Come up to the lounge with me. Callie, Joe and two of my friends are waiting for me there. We can do some catching up…"

"It's very late, or should I say, early in the morning." She faked a yawn, not tired anymore now that her heart was pumping into overdrive. "I am actually on a case and have to be at the police station very early in the morning tomorrow."

"A case?" Frank knitted his brows, a little baffled, "Here? And I don't know about it?"

"You can't know everything, Genius. Besides, you must be busy with other stuff, like a marriage." Nancy reminded him and he smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. How his smile cut into her- she really want to run far away from him before the first teardrop fall.

"Oh, right. So you're staying here? We'll still be going the same way. Let me help you with that." Chivalrous as ever, Frank gestured for her overnight bag and she had no idea what possessed her then but she handed it to him and walked with him towards the hotel's entrance. There was no way to get out of the situation as she couldn't say something akin to 'parking in here but staying at another hotel' without sounding suspicious. Almost succeeding in dismissing the stirred up emotions in the pit of her stomach, her efforts were wasted as when they were alone in the elevator bringing them up to the hotel's lobby, the silence that hung between the both of them was suffocating. She sensed that he felt it too.

"Thank you… ah, for helping me with the bag." 

"A little retarded in your response, right Drew?" Frank teased her and she blushed. How could she tell him that she was too pre-occupied with her emotions that common courtesy was simply erased from her brains? Her mind blanked again and the chime that accompanied the red light flashing on the button indicating that they had reached the lobby was a godsend. She stepped out and saw a slightly leaner Joe sprawled on a couch next to a perky, blonde girl who stood up immediately and raced towards them when she spotted Frank.

"Darling! What took you so long? Who's this?" She took Frank's hand and smiled at Nancy. Without waiting for Frank's introduction, she shook Nancy's hand excitedly and introduced herself. 

"Hi! I'm Callie! Frank's fiancée. You're?"

"Nancy Drew." Nancy smiled at her as another blow hammered into her heart. Callie was a sunshine girl, bubbly and pretty. Oh, she wasn't too bad herself but Callie was the girl who managed to keep Frank's heart in the end. And Nancy, as any girl in her position would be, was not too happy that Callie was very attractive.

"Nancy!!" Callie shrieked and pumped her hand harder, before hugging her effusively. "I've been dying to see you!!! Frank told me so much about you! So, you finally made it after all! Good!!!"

"Great to see you too…" Nancy smiled, rather taken aback by the enthusiastic greeting. She disengaged herself as politely as she could.

"We have a week before the wedding. I'm so sorry I can't show you around… the wedding's a little hard to prepare for." Callie apologized as she walked Nancy to the front desk, holding Frank's hand the entire time. Nancy shook her head, the smile still plastered on her cheeks.

"It's okay. I'm actually on business here but I'll make it for the wedding."

"Great! So… what business are you on?"

"Ahm, I'm investigating something…" Nancy tried to evade the question- while her identity as a FBI agent wasn't exactly a secret, she didn't want to draw too much attention to herself either. And the case was hanging on a thin thread- any possibilities of a leak and it could end up in the files of unsolved mysteries. She cast a glance at Frank who merely shrugged helplessly. Callie was about to probe when someone tapped her on her shoulder. She spun around, grateful for the brother who came to her rescue from Callie's friendship. 

"Hey, Drew!" Joe embraced her warmly. "It's been a long time!"

"And I see you have grown an earring or two." Nancy tugged at one of Joe's earring, not knowing where the sudden flux of flirtatious mood came from. Maybe she just wanted something to do and besides, if there was anything Joe didn't mind, it was attention from the female species. "And a tattoo."

"Yup." Joe lifted his right arm slightly so Nancy could get a better look at the name inked permanently into his skin, "My daughter's name."

"Hallie… I've heard stuff about her… Frank is full of praises for his niece." Out of habit, Nancy ran a hand over the name. Joe frowned, mildly offended.

"Hey, it's real! I braved the pain for it…"

"Hah. Just checking!" Nancy ribbed him. Frank cut in then and Nancy thought she heard some unhappiness in his tone- or maybe she had imagined it.

"Nancy, I think you better check in. The receptionist's looking at you for a very long time." 

"Oops… right. Ahm…" Nancy looked over Joe's shoulder and spotted two guys seated on the couch next to the one Joe and Callie had occupied earlier on. Both of them had dozed off and one of them, a rounder, brown haired guy, was snoring softly.

"Those are my friends. Chet can't hold his alcohol and Biff drank too much. In any case, _I_ have to send them home now." Joe bit his lips in annoyance, "Because I'm the only one who didn't drink."

"Who _can't drink at all." Frank corrected his brother, probably hearing the sullen tone in Joe's voice. Joe stuck a tongue out at Frank before guiding Nancy towards the front desk by her shoulders. _

"I'll catch up with you, tomorrow, Drew. Gotta be a chauffeur tonight. Anyway, this is a great hotel to stay in- shopping is extremely close and well, _shopping is _extremely_ close."_

"Like I said, I'm here on business…and Frank's wedding, of course." Nancy repeated herself and arched her brows mysteriously in answer to Joe's questioning look. 

"A case I don't know of around here? Man, I must really catch up with you."

"You and Frank really do think alike. He said the same thing too." She mused at the similarity between Joe's answer and his brother's. Frank leaned in over from the other side, across from Callie, slouching against the marble counter as Nancy handed a printed reservation form to the counter staff.

"Joe does nothing but copy me." He quipped, hugging Callie closer to him. 

"Right! In your dreams! I'm not a nerd!" Joe jibed his brother good-naturedly.

"You're not a nerd. You're a dork." Frank shot back. Joe reached over Callie to take a playful swipe at his brother. Pulling himself away from his fiancé, Frank reciprocated his brother's harassment and soon, the two brothers soon engaged in a juvenile scuffle behind Nancy. Callie laughed, dragging Frank away from the mirth-filled brawl.

"Knock it off, both of you. You're embarrassing yourself."

"Okay, only because _you_ say so." 

Nancy threw a quick glance behind and saw Frank and Callie indulging in some nose rubbing and quickly turned away. He didn't seem like he was intentionally coddling Callie to make her jealous- nope. Frank wasn't that kind of person. Bristling a little from the scene, Nancy took the key from the staff and thanked her softly.

"You know something, Drew? You're like an open book right now." Joe warned her gently and softly, for her benefit. Like a heavy pendulum, her mood swung violently and she glared at him querulously.

"We haven't been in touch for long, Joe. I don't know what you're inferring from my expression, me, a friend you haven't seen for years." She hissed irritability and right after, some remorse crept in. Joe had always been a percipient being and his intuition could put most women's to shame. Besides, from his tone, she knew he was only trying to be helpful.

But he didn't take it to heart. Dismissing her harshness with a half-shrug, he gestured to her luggage, "Need help with that?"

"Yah, thanks. I'm kinda tired. Sorry…"

"It's okay, Nancy. Good to see you though." Joe patted her shoulder with unspoken understanding and picked up her bag from where Frank left it- unattended. The brown-haired young man broke away from his fiancée and a look of apology flashed across his face.

"I'm sorry… Nancy. Didn't mean to… I mean, I knew Joe would watch it…"

"No worries…" Nancy smiled at him- from this little oversight of his, she guessed her unanswered question was more or less, replied to. Yet, the softness in his eyes when he looked at her flung her in a quandary again. _No! Nancy chided herself, _He's going to get married already. It's over. Whatever boat you missed, you missed forever.__

_But when did I miss it? When did it passed me by?_

_Or did I just walked by it and not see?_

"Bro, you bring Callie home. I'll take care of Nan here… and the two goons." Joe waved at his brother who smiled gratefully and waved back. 

"All right. Take care, Nan. Be seeing you around."

"Bye, Nan!" Callie chimed and her slightly high-pitched voice was sounding a little shrill to Nancy's ears.

"Bye, guys." Nancy bade them farewell and left with Joe to her room, her heart much more unsettled than before. The bag of regrets she carried with her was bursting from the extra load stuffed into it with the mere run into Frank Hardy and if she didn't leave soon, everyone would know, besides Joe.

***

"Okay, it's three a.m. and I'm so tired. Time to call it a day…" Callie squirmed away from Frank's amorous affections and thumbed Frank's nose when he pouted miserably, reluctant to let her go. He had parked his car just outside her gates and for the last half-an hour; he had been demonstrating just how much he would miss her. Darn whatever William said- he was already all fired up each time he looked at her. They had been dating for so long and yet, each second with her was a fresh burst of life for him. At times, her love for him was so overwhelming that it brought tears to his eyes in the simplest things they did together- be it just a hug on the street or a stolen kiss as they strolled through the park. Marrying her was the best decision he could ever make for himself, no matter how selfish it sounded. He loved her and she loved him back- the world was full of couples and yet, he knew he was still privileged to have found someone who could truly give of herself to him and join with him in the sea of billions, detached souls. 

In the soul of course. Heart, mind and soul. Soon, on their wedding night, it would be everything- it would be sacred, innocent, loving… everything good.

"No… I don't wanna you to go…" Frank mumbled and pulled her back into his embrace, nuzzling her neck. The faint scent of her sweet floral perfume, the lingering softness of her honey-blonde hair and tenderness of her silky skin- he wanted to memorize each and every aspect of her. He wouldn't be seeing her for slightly over a week- it would be pure torture.

Callie kissed his cheek and lightly pushed him away, "Darling…"

"Baby…" He drawled, placing a finger on her lips and leaned over, trying to get close to her again. "Shh…"

"Well…" She lifted his touch away, "The days will pass soon enough. Besides the last-minute checks, you have your old friend to show around town…"

_Nancy__…_

He sat back and bit his lips and she took his unconscious expression of pricking guilt as a sign that he had completely forgotten about showing courtesy to a long-time buddy who was stranger to his hometown. Frowning, she deftly slapped his hand.

"Now, don't be rude. I bet Nancy will need help around town."

"Ah, Callie, Joe can take care of it. Besides, aren't you even worried? Nancy's a girl and all…"

_A very pretty girl with too much common interests as mine.__ Didn't she say she wasn't coming to my wedding? Why would she suddenly just show up? Without warning… God…_

Callie twisted her lips in annoyance, "If I remember correctly, Nancy seemed more of _your_ friend than Joe's. Besides, if anything was to happen, if would have happened long ago when you and her work together on those dangerous cases all the time. Chemistry reactions would have gone haywire in those situations and the fact that you're still with me, means there's no chemistry between the both of you. And most importantly, I trust you and have oodles of confidence in myself. You're mine… don't you ever forget it!" She kissed the tip of his nose and he smiled, touched by her trust in him while his heart pounded nervously simultaneously. On impulse, he kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly, not exactly able to disentangle those twisting, swirling thoughts in his mind.

"I love you, Cal. Don't' ever doubt me…" He whispered gently into her ears in between planting butterfly kisses in her hair. She nestled her head against the hollow between his neck and left shoulder.

"I love you too, Frank. Now, be a good boy and walk me to my door. When you see me again, you'll be making me your wife." 

"Yes, Madam…" He kissed her one final time on the lips. After exiting from his car, he opened her door for her and she stepped up, taking his outstretched hand. Slowly, they ambled hand-in-hand to her front door, taking in breath of the fresh morning air mingled with the fragrance of leaves and grass after the rain. Tonight, he would greet his fiancé goodnight and soon, in slightly more than week's time, he would be greeting his wife good morning.

This time, there would be no more delays. His heart was decided. As he drove home alone, moving pictures from a none-too-distance past played before his mind's eye but he ignored them. Just a mere presence and she could still have that effect on him. She- Nancy Drew.

Amidst the guilty recollection, the detective in him threw up the usual questions- why was she here? What was her case about? Would they, by chance, be working again? Would she need his help?

And if they do cooperate, would the sparks that had since died with the cooled ambers, flare again? 

But his heart was decided and he let out a short laugh- he was thinking too much. Letting his mind take a break as he waited for the last red light to his apartment to turn green, he thought of his approaching wedding and smiled. Thoughts of Callie filled his heart and mind with assurance

Nancy was here on a case and they were good friends. Good friends go for each other's wedding. The ring was on Callie's finger and rightfully so. Nancy Drew was but, a girl from his past. To her, there would be nothing but a heartfelt apology, one that he hadn't quite express.


	3. 3

Psychedelic Hollow.

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Chapter 3

"He's inside." Con Riley threw the door to the interrogation room opened and Nancy stepped past him inside, stifling a yawn. She sipped the coffee from the warm, disposable cup in her hands and thought about how right Joe was- Hotel Bayport, the hotel she was staying at, was in the heart of the city and close to everything and anything a tourist might need. Not just _anything_ too_. It was just opposite a Starbucks and her heart had leapt with joy at the wondrous sight when she drew the curtains opened and gazed out onto the streets right after she emerged from a tumultuous dreamland. The coffee chain had become an integral part of her life- as it was with Frank's. Ned had always preferred tea. _

_Nancy__! She chided herself, __Get out of that hole! The case, honey! The case! You're facing your biggest lead so far and you're thinking about correlations between boys you like and the drinks they prefer! It's not exactly professional!  _

Shaking her head to clear it of distraction, she heard Con Riley closed the door and the vacuity of a tight, small space settled down upon her when the background sounds were shut out. There she was, alone in the tiny, sparsely furnished room with Con Riley standing guard behind the suspect. A large mirror, allowing officers in the adjacent room to observe every move made in the room, lent the illusion of extra space but it was not enough to fool anyone with an average sense of judgment. Taking a seat at the only empty chair in the room, she rested her briefcase on the table and looked up with steely eyes, facing her most prominent and pathetic-looking hope.

The hope had a name and a gender. Justin Daye; Male. He was a nineteen year old high school repeat student on his way to dropping out and looking excessively worn-out at eight in the morning. His rust-colored hair, grimy with sweat and dirt, had tousled into jutting tangles. A wreathing miasma of human stink, cigarettes, alcohol and the death of drugs coiled around him,  causing Nancy to almost gag during initial few short breaths had she not being taught decorum in the course of her work. The rancid stench of an unwashed body took some getting used to but the room didn't allow much ventilation and thus Nancy had not much choice. Despite the unwelcome smell, her heart almost twisted with pity for the young man and a part of her wanted to reach into the core of his being to discover what could have led him to willingly march onto the treacherous track of self-destruction. He could have been rather handsome if not for those vacant, dead-fish gray eyes, something he was definitely not born with. Gaunt cheeks hollowed out by drugs and aimless parties, stretched thin lips, and arms riddled with needles' marks told Nancy that this man had been substituting real food for junk and poison for a prolonged time.

"Hello. I'm Nancy Drew, FBI agent, and I have some questions for you. Maybe you can help me. And maybe in helping me, I can be of assistance to you."

"I told them 'redi. Don't know a thing." He cradled his head in his hands and clutched at his hair. Suddenly, he messed it up violently and stared at her, his emotionless eyes taking on a heartfelt plea.

"I need to see her. How is she? Liars told me she's dead!" He spat, turning his head around to shoot a deadly glare at Con Riley who tightened his thin lips in annoyance.

"She? You mean your companion two nights ago, Kimberly Crawell?"

"Yes! Kim… I… I called for help as soon as I can. She was still breathing when they put her in the ambulance…"

"She's dead, Justin." Nancy lowered her voice and the young man shook his head, entrenched in his own denial. Con Riley had told her that they expended much effort trying to dig out information from the "young punk" but all he did was moan about wanting to go see his girlfriend. They couldn't convince him that she was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital and Nancy doubted that she could make him believe. She was no social worker and her gentler side had eroded somewhat during her experiences as both Nancy Drew, the person, and Nancy Drew, the FBI agent. Producing a copy of Kimberly's death certificate, she placed it on the table and pushed it in front of Justin. He glanced at it insipidly and let out a mocking laugh.

"You think that's going to work? I ain't dumb, ya know. These things can be easily faked."

"I can get the genuine copy, if that's what you want to see. Or do you prefer a trip down to the morgue?" Nancy took the copy back and slipped it into her briefcase. Combating her harshness with some tender touch, she looked at him, a picture of condolences.

"I'm sorry about it. But you can tell me the truth and at least, let her parents have some closure. I'll try my best to see that you get a lighter sentence, if in fact you are guilty. Can you do that for her?"

"I ain't do anything! NOTHING!" He screamed. Suddenly, he stood up, causing his chair to clatter down onto the floor. Wiry hands shot out across the table as if to strangle her, a futile attempt since he was handcuffed and Con Riley, though not exactly muscular, could easily overpower him. The police officer pulled him back down onto the hard, wooden chair by his bony shoulders and he dissolved into tears, pitiable and broken. Through his wracking sobs, Nancy, a little startled but otherwise unperturbed by the outburst, proceeded to ask her questions. She wanted to sympathize with him but if he was guilty, then any shred of compassion she had for him would dissipate as easily as ephemeral vapors in the air.

"There are very prominent traces of alcohol and a new drug called Rofomyn in her blood- a drug very popular now for date rapes. The person who ingested it would be in a state of high and appear to enjoy whatever he or she was doing but after the drug wears off, there will be no memories, just an inkling of something bad happening. And the drug take effect pretty instantaneously and endures very long- enough time for the rapists to do whatever they want and with seemingly willing participants. However, for people like Kimberly who react badly to it, it's a death sentence. You were half- undressed and she was naked in your car's backseat. Kimberly's friends told the police that she's a strong advocate of non pre-marital sex. Did you give her the drug in order to, shall we say, score with her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about and I never gave Kim anything… I brought her around, meet my friends and… and got her a drink. I didn't… didn't give her anything…" He moaned, as if in physical pain as he hunched over, kicking his heels against the floor.

"But you were with her. And you were intoxicated with Ecstasy. Did you obtain drugs from the pub where you visited?"

"Don't know…I DON'T KNOW!"

"It was mentioned here in your file that you refused to tell anyone which pub you went to nor who gave you the drugs.  That's not very wise of you. Do you understand that if the guilt is fully yours, you will be charged heavily? More than you can even imagine?"

"I DON'T KNOW! DON'T CARE! I HATE YOU! HATE YOUR SICK FACE!"  He hawked and before Nancy could duck, slimy spit landed on her blouse. Con Riley restrained the wildly thrashing teenager, his mien apologetic. Nancy raised her hand, indicating that she was fine as she retrieve a tissue from her briefcase to dab the viscous saliva away.

"Hey, Cool it! COOL IT!" Con Riley commanded the rabid man who was trying to shake free from the officer's non-too-tender administration, grunting and growling in frustration when he proved to be the severely disadvantaged party. "I WARNED YOU!"

"SHUT UP YOU SICKO! S.O.B! Kimberly's not dead! ALL OF YOU ARE CRAP! WHEN I'M OUT, I"LL SHIT ON YOUR FACES! I'LL SMEAR MUD ALL OVER YOUR SICK CRAP-FILLED…"

He ranted and yelled until tears flowed freely down his cheeks and an attack of hiccups assaulted him. Hyperventilating and weakened by his explosion of rage, sorrow and desperation, he slumped against his chair and wailed wretchedly.  Nancy loathed continuing. Nodding at Con, she shook her head and gestured towards the door.

"I think I'll take a break. Let him calm down first. He's useless to me like this."

"No worries."

"Ten minutes. I'll be back." Nancy stood up and walked out of the room to finish her coffee.

***

"I need to speak to Frank." Conrad Daye, seated on the long couch in the Hardys' living room, stated blandly, "Not you." 

Joe bristled- as if he wanted to see Conrad. He didn't like being woken up so early in the morning. Moreover, to be waken up by someone whom had almost allowed his gang members to kill him years ago if Frank had not intercede by banking in on a favor, wasn't exactly too auspicious an event to start the morning with. Fenton was MIA, Aunt Gertrude went down to church to meet her friends, Hallie was still sleeping and Laura didn't know what to do with Conrad. Frankly, Joe thought that maybe his mom was a little frightened by Conrad. Now, at the age of twenty-five, Conrad had evolved from a street gang leader to a bona fide veteran hoodlum if not in lifestyle then at least in appearance. He had bulked up and kept a beard as dense as the forests in Maine. Strong, dark eyebrows sheltered menacing black eyes and his trademark red bandana kept his long, brown hair out of his face that seemed strangely more wearied than threatening.

"You can talk to me first. Frank's busy."

"I know he's getting married…" Conrad threw Joe a smirk, "Oh, don't look so shock, baby brother. The whole town knows about Frank Hardy's wedding. Of course, the likes of me aren't invited."

"Conrad, do you want some water? Tea? Cookies?" Laura came bearing a tray of goodies even before Conrad could make his choice. Joe clenched his fists, ready to punch the daylights out of Conrad if Conrad was rude to his mom.

"No, thanks. Madam. But the cookies smell good." 

"Then take some… and the tea- I bought this new blend recently. It's very fragrant…" Laura smiled warmly at Conrad and Joe was rather surprise to see a genuine, grateful look on the hooligan. 

"Okay. Thank you very much."

"Don't mention it. If you want to, do stay for breakfast. I'm preparing Joe's." Laura beamed at Conrad before exchanging a worried glance with Joe, asking Joe silently if Conrad was bringing trouble to them. That was Laura- she wasn't faking niceness- she treated everybody with kindness. But she loved her family fiercely and as long as Conrad wasn't a threat, he was welcomed. If not, then he better prayed hard.

Joe didn't reply her- he didn't know the answer yet. She then retreated into the kitchen and Joe could hear the sizzling of butter and breathed in the tantalizing smell of bacon soon after. But the aroma was all he was getting- Laura was making breakfast for Hallie and Hallie loved bacon. For him, Laura had a different menu altogether.

"Your mother is cool." Conrad commented and sipped the tea. "Pity you have to break her heart the way you did. At least I didn't go knock up some girl. I know what responsibility to a girl is."

"I don't think you're here to trade life stories with me." Joe pulled his lips tightly, glaring at Conrad. "Out with it. What do you want?"

"I want act like an elder brother, be like Frank in that aspect. I always respected him for keeping you alive. Must have been real hard on him."

"So you're asking Frank for pointers?" Joe almost burst out laughing, the hilarity moderating the umbrage he took from Daye's roundabout insult. "For that you had to wake us up so early in the morning and probably scared the living daylights out of my mom with the roar of your Harley? Wait a minute; I'll go see if my brother has a guidebook somewhere. He must have the book 'How to be a great elder brother for hairy dummies,' lying around, collecting dust. "

"No. Not for pointers." Conrad didn't even blink an eye at Joe's jibes. If he did, Joe knew his mother might have to dial 911. Just like him to shoot his mouth off without thinking about who he was targeting. "It's a little too late for that. I'm here to borrow some money. My kid brother, Justin, is holed up in the cell for two nights. I want to bail him out. He's a good kid. Can you…" Conrad let out a growl, not accustomed to begging. Joe absorbed in the details and decided to let him off, knowing that Conrad was atypically vulnerable. Besides, the scenario of brothers looking out for each other could always find sympathy from a soft spot within him. He picked up the phone's receiver and dialed for Frank.

"I'm not sure if he's at home but we'll try. If he isn't, I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Joe Hardy. You're beginning to be cool too."

Joe let out a grunt as he listened to the ringing of the phone, praying Frank would pick it up and rid him of Conrad Daye.

***

Nancy left the police station after three grueling hours. Justin wasn't talking, in severe denial and basically, too emotional for her to gain any valuable insights into the case. If she was to go with evidence, there would hardly be any lingering doubt left. But a niggling prick kept her from labeling him guilty. Justin seemed guilt-stricken but for reasons that seemed to differ from spiking his girlfriend's drink- during the questioning in which she tried her best to stick to a gentle approach despite the aggravation mounting in the face of an unmovable and noisy wall, he kept banging his own head against the table and muttering things like he shouldn't have brought her there.

"Hey, Nan!" Joe waved at Nancy from the corner bistro a few streets away from the police station. He had given her excellent directions and she found it on first attempt- the bright blue canopy printed with its name in block letters sheltering its entrance helped a lot as well. Now that it was daylight and she was of clearer faculties than when the sun was still floundering in the ocean, she noticed a change in Joe that was more than the two scintillating ear studs on his left ear and his leaner physique. She guessed he thinned down due to the injuries sustained in his previous case- Frank wrote to her about it and she could tell, from Frank's choice of words, the sense of failure looming over him for almost losing his brother to a perverted serial child killer.

The change in Joe was probably a by-product of growing up and if there was anyone she could name who was forced to mature quickly, it was Joe. His eyes, though still bright and startling, had a poignant shadow mellowing the mischievous glint. And he looked tired- being a single father was no easy task and she knew that extremely well with all her heart. She had always been grateful to her father for doing a good job- for being a father she couldn't fault. To Nancy, despite some trivial flaws, Carson was irreproachable when it came to his fatherly responsibilities. He always did his best and still strove to do better, and for that, Nancy never felt like she was shortchanged. In fact, she felt much more blessed than those kids with a complete set of parents who were never there for them.

"Hello! So, where's your daughter? I'm kinda hoping you'll bring her along. Frank sent me some pictures and she's absolutely adorable." Nancy took a seat beside him and placed her orders with the waiter. Joe waited until she was done before replying.

"I think I may be able to persuade you to talk about the case, which is why I didn't bring her along. She's at home now, baking a chocolate cake with my mother."

"Can't wait for school to start huh?" Nancy remarked, pointing out the bags under his eyes. "You look like you aren't sleeping much."

"Neither do you." Joe smiled, raising a brow. "But you still look pretty good."

"Flirt." 

They broke into light-hearted chuckles, dispelling the heavy clouds of morning's gloom for her. Soon, Nancy's order came and the muffins smelled really delicious. Her stomach growled- the interrogation had zapped her of energy and she needed to replenish. Biting into one freshly baked muffin, she swooned as its rich chocolate flavor exploded on her tongue. Joe laughed heartily and pushed his plate of uneaten muffins to her.

"Take them. My mom had made me a scrumptious, low fat breakfast. I ordered these on impulse."

"Too much of a good thing is bad for me." Nancy grinned before taking in gulps of ice water. "Got to watch my figure."

"Yup, you should. I am." Joe teased. She threw a bunched up paper napkin at him and he ducked, causing the napkin to fly right into the face of a bewildered senior. He hurriedly rushed to the older man and picked up the napkin from the floor, apologizing profusely. Nancy thought she saw him winced a little while he straightened up. 

"I'm sorry, sir. My friend's rather crazy this morning… No harm done…"

She heard the old man mumbled something grouchily before shooing Joe off like he was some detested mosquito. The handsome blond returned to his seat, a frown on his lips.

"I think he just called me a loony toon."

"I'll make it up to you. This… ahm, brunch is on me. Are you all right? Thought I saw you winced earlier. I'm sorry about that… I should have gone pick it up…" 

"Nah, forget it." He smiled crookedly, emphasizing his disaffection with a wave of his hand. "Just some souvenirs from the last case. The muffins don't cost much; make it up by telling me about your case?" Joe straightened up as his eyes shone like a terrier who had just heard the faintest noise, "I'm all ears."

"I know you are. I may need some help but for now…"

"C'mon, Drew. Satisfy my curiosity…" Joe grabbed her arm, shaking it like a child cajoling a parent, "Pretty please? I'll chip in to help you… you'll solve it by tonight and then I can show you around town and we can have some fun! I promise! I won't bring the party pooper along."

"Party pooper?" Nancy arched her brows even though she knew who Joe was jokingly referring to. The younger Hardy rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

"Ow… you're just pretending to have a few fried brain cells, right? Party Pooper is Frank? Duh?  When do I use such terms of endearments for anyone else?"

"You know something? I can't believe you're a father. In fact, I can't believe you still recognize me after all these years." 

"I'll always remember a pretty face. And you're already in my long-term memory, can't erase that. Speaking of pretty faces, how are Bess and George?" 

"Bess' fine. She's having a ball doing modeling and landing parts in sitcoms but somehow, the 'big break' is being deliberately elusive. George is doing something very admirable- she's a teacher in a special school teaching physical education."

"Hmm, that sounds like something they would do. I thought I saw Bess on an episode of something once. And Ned?"

"Ned isn't a pretty face. And Bess isn't going to take too kindly to you seeing her in 'something'. At least try and remember the show's name." Nancy tried to evade the question with humor but Joe wasn't letting up.

"You broke up with him, right?"

Casting her muffin aside, she leaned back against the metal chair and smiled wryly, "About three years."

"Oh… I didn't mean to pry… but is Frank the reason?"

"You're always so direct. Candor can be rather galling, you know?" Nancy narrowed her eyes at Joe whose lips grew thin in an apology.

"Sorry, just that judging from your reaction last night and why you rejected the wedding invitation when you and Frank are so close…"

"Frank doesn't tell you everything right?"

"Can't blame him. I don't tell him everything too. Being so far apart in distance can be rather daunting for heart-to-heart talks." Joe admitted, "And I'll confess to one more thing- I'm asking out of concern _and curiosity."_

"Curiosity kills the cat. I don't know if I should confide in you… with you being Frank's brother and… let's just say that we used to be close once and then…" She shrugged, smiling to hide the struggles inside her to keep her tears in check. 

_Nancy__! Don't let such thoughts turn you into a pansy!_

"Well?" Joe probed softly, almost cautiously, as he reached over and laid a hand over hers on the checkered table.

"And then." Nancy replied with finality and pulled her hand away and listlessly poked at her muffins, "Whatever it is, the cause isn't Frank. Or rather, Frank might not be in the picture and the break-up with Ned would have happened anyway. Ned was flamed up with helping the underprivileged after a backpacking trip to Nepal with some of his church friends and, suddenly, he was flying off to foreign countries for months at times. From building schools in Tibet to distributing aid in Africa with the Red Cross, he's now working for UNICEF and bent on carrying on his mission. His chosen profession is something that kept us apart and... . Well, this will sound like double-standards but I can't be with someone who's never there, though I'm so proud of him. I know what he had to give up for pure altruistic reasons and I bet in the eyes of many, I'm a real moron to give up a guy like Ned. It's hard to hear a man cry over the phone, especially him. But I believe that I shouldn't hold him up from pursuing his dreams when I don't love him that way anymore, neither should he."

Joe smiled awkwardly, probably hearing too much than he asked for. His cheeks flushed crimson as he remarked tentatively, "Wow. I didn't know you'll actually open up somewhat to me… I mean, you were right last night, or shall I say, the early morning. We haven't been close for a long time. Thanks for trusting me with that… maybe the things you told me are not secrets to your peers but I appreciate you confiding in me."

"You did ask for it." Nancy wrinkled her nose and popped another morsel of muffin into her mouth, instantly gratified. Chocolate in any forms- the most effective comfort food.

Joe watched her for a while, as if ruminating over something concerning her. He gulped his water, appearing like a perfect non-alcoholic mirror image of a man downing alcohol in order to ingest Dutch courage.  

"You have anything to say?" Nancy set her fork down and rested her chin on her hands propped up on the table by the elbows. "I'm all ears."

Joe sucked in a deep breath and gushed, "I have a selfish reason for prying though I'm really concerned. I saw how you looked last night and if you want my opinion, you looked like some angry spurn lover at times and it's scary. Callie and Frank are truly happy together- they have weathered through a lot and all that's going in my mind when I saw you was, 'Oh no. There it goes. I'm going to have to keep some terrible secrets again.' I know you and Frank kissed more than once behind Ned's and Callie's back and it kills me to have to _know such things because even though I did it myself a couple times while dating my previous girlfriends, I know it's __wrong and I can't, like, tell you and Frank it's _wrong_ and it'll be so __wrong if it happens again so close to his wedding or worse after the wedding. When the both of them are actually __married. I know Callie and Frank loves…"_

"Calm down, Joe. I know. I catch your hint. Don't worry. I'm not here to demand anything from him… I know that he had made a choice. I'm really here on a case." Nancy assured the rambling Joe who swallowed the rest of his water in one mouthful before sagging against the back of his chair like a sack of potatoes.

"Phew that was easy. A case…" He laughed nervously, "Of course. You're with the FBI. Frank mentioned it in one of the emails. He was actually headhunted, as were you."

"But he gave it up. I don't know who made the smart choice, me or him."

"So, the case… what is it about?" 

Nancy chuckled lowly and broke her muffin into small chunks with her fork. "You're relentless, you know that?"

"Yup. I'm a Hardy Boy. And you're a Drew. Good thing it didn't take you too long to know that you can't really stop me from finding out or I'll think you're losing your touch."

"Hmm, I needed that reminder." Nancy nodded, humoring Joe with a deadpan smile, "The case is about drugs- a date rape drug to be exact. Rofomyn."

"Rofomyn? I think I read about it somewhere." Joe crinkled his eyes, as if trying to peer into the clutter of memories inside his mind. It was a few seconds after when the blond man snapped his finger excitedly, "Yah! I remember now. Two weeks ago, on newspaper. A girl cried rape after contracting a venereal disease but there wasn't evidence and she couldn't remember the man or what exactly happened- except for a round pill found in her bag, most likely planted."

"Right. Rofomyn. An improved version of Rohypnol. More effective and it doesn't show up in those drink-safe coasters." Nancy chewed on another chunk of muffin frowningly, "Not like those coasters are a hundred percent accurate though they do help to some extent."

"Hmm…" Joe muttered, his eyes hooded with some disturbing thought as he gazed upon those muffins, "These drugs and some other stuff make me wonder what we are using our technology and knowledge for. Seems like all we're advancing towards is moral decadence."

"The coming of Armageddon." Nancy breathed eerily and Joe shuddered, playing along. "But not everyone and every aspect of our progress is bad, Joe. There's still quite a lot of good left."

"Remind me of that again when they start to do things like, say, clone little nagging Franks. Back to Rofomyn, why are you here? You found something to do with Rofomyn in little old Bayport?"

"Rofomyn is a small little white pill and your little old Bayport can easily contain hundreds of millions of them. But what I'm looking for is just an insight into the supply and distribution of Rofomyn so the Feds can move on with more precise investigations. We have some vague ideas but our informer turned and went missing. And things died down for a while, or maybe not, since those people who got raped probably never knew about it or have too little evidence working for them. However, a girl died of a bad reaction to this drug a couple of nights ago over here. Her boyfriend was caught. I hope to find out from the boyfriend how he obtained the drugs as, from our previous investigations; Bayport is one of the _little old towns_ with underground rave parties organized by drugs dealers with powerful backing. But that's where our leads start and end."

"The girl, is she called Kimberly Crawell?"

"Yes. A senior in high school."

"What a waste. In our papers, it is reported that she's an ace student…"

"Who got involved with the wrong guy, apparently. I just questioned her boyfriend, Justin Daye. He's a messed-up kid."

Joe bit his down on his lips again. Shaking his head, he reached inside his pocket and drew out a few small pills. Popping them into his mouth and washing them down with water; he raised a hand in a silent request for Nancy to be patient as she observed him with some concern.

"Enzyme pills. I need to take them before meals and snacks. Half my pancreas' gone- it's quite a drag watching what I eat, yadda, yadda, yadda. Now, I want some muffins." He explained, dabbing his lips with his napkin.  
  


"Are you sure you can?" Nancy knitted her brows as Joe tore off a little of the muffin and dunked it into his mouth unceremoniously.

"Aw, a little won't kill me. Besides, I'm lucky. I just got to watch my sugar level. Me not diabetic, yet. And I do need some energy. I have a funny feeling we'll be working together again."

Nancy threw him a questioning look, dying to know what he meant as her heart leapt with a surge of excitement. However, Joe merely shrugged and polished off half-a-muffin, swiping the crumbs casually away from his shirt.

*Conrad Daye appeared in Hardy Boys Case file, No. 45, _In Self-Defense._


	4. 4

Psychedelic Hollow 4

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"Thanks, Frank." Conrad Daye muttered after Frank handed him the envelope with the money to post bail for his kid brother, Justin. "I know you're busy and all. It's very much appreciated and you know me- I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it. Go do what you have to do. I'm just sorry it took so long. The queue at the bank was pretty long and there were quite a bit of shares and bonds to cash in."

"Yah. Thanks. You didn't have to but you did." Conrad smiled at Frank jadedly before following an officer to fulfill the transaction. Joe jerked his head at his brother when Frank turned around, deep in his thoughts.

"Hey, bro. There's a seat next to me." Joe indicated at a plastic, black chair against the wall and Frank stared at it contemplatively for a moment before sticking his tongue in his right cheek. 

"It's all right. The chair has no mouth to swallow you with…" Speaking in a soothing voice, Joe beckoned Frank closer, "The only thing here you have to worry about is Justin running away before his trial…"

"I'm not worried about that. Conrad's a responsible guy." Frank let out sigh before sitting down next to Joe, holding up his fringe with his hand, "Anyway, when you lend money out, you must be prepared to forfeit it."

"Are you?"

"I am, but after I handed him the envelope, I'm not sure if Callie minded. I mean, we're going to be married and all so what's mine is hers and what's hers is mine. And we're kinda counting on a substantial portion of that to pay for the wedding." Frank wrinkled his nose and stared a random spot in face briefly before shaking his head. "Too late for thinking about that."

"You feel good about helping Conrad?"

"Yup."

Joe stretched his arm across his brother's shoulders. "Well, then so be it. What Callie doesn't know won't hurt her. You can always tell her the stock market crash or something… girls don't know these things. And I have some savings… I don't mind chipping in to help you out… if you need it."

Throwing him a grateful look as a slow smile crept up the sides of Frank's lips, Frank ruffled his hair and twisted his neck a little, cracking the tense muscles. "So, how's your date with Nancy?"

"It wasn't a date. Just caught up with her. Seems like she's on a case which is tied to Conrad's brother. The Feds are looking for the main suppliers of a drug called Rofomyn- heard of it?"

"Yup- the newest date rape drug. Two girls are suspected to be gang raped after their drinks are spiked by it. And there's another girl who was tested for some venereal disease but she's insistent that she's a virgin… subsequent checks proved that she's no longer.  I know Rofomyn isn't traceable after the effects wore off and neither does it show on those drug strip coasters…"

"They traced this one- Justin Daye's girlfriend had a bad reaction to it and died. The drug wasn't flushed out of her system soon enough. The police are suspecting that Justin drugged Kimberly Crawell with the intention to have sex with her and may charge him with manslaughter, outrage of modesty and attempted rape. Very heavy charges. Nancy's hoping Justin can lead her into the secret world of Rofomyn production and sales. She's not the only FBI agent looking into this… they needed corresponding evidence as well. So while her partner's in Chicago checking it out, she's here in Bayport after a fruitless investigation in New York City."

Frank scratched the back of his neck, muttering dryly,"No wonder Conrad is flustered. Justin's in hot, boiling soup."

"Make that hot, boiling larva." Joe opined, growing silent for a moment with the gravity of a young man's apparent fate in prison. "Nancy had a suspicion that Justin wasn't responsible. But he was on drugs as well- they found Ecstasy in his blood. He's too distraught to talk and Nancy didn't get anything out from him. However, she guessed Justin brought Kimberly to a club when it was having a drug rave party- you know, where there's drugs sampling and sales- stuff like that and maybe more. Rofomyn is hard to get, and that contributed to its exclusive pricing besides its effectiveness. Most likely, the person who organized the party has some pretty amazing connections. Or a few party-goers did. Nancy wants to know who Justin's pusher is- or who the person who spiked Kimberly's drink is."

"You know, there's a high possibility that there are people, girls as well as _guys_, who are raped out there and the saddest thing is they may not even know a thing about it….This world is getting dangerous."

"You don't need to tell me about it. I'm thinking of migrating with Hallie to some isolated island just hearing Nancy speaking about this Rofomyn…and date-rape. Can't believe there'll be people who are despicable enough to think it's okay to do such things against a person will, whether they are dating the victim or not." Joe bit his lower lip, retracting his hand from Frank's shoulders. It was getting late and he missed his daughter very much, having not been at home the entire day. Hallie was already placed in dire danger before and she had escaped physically unscathed but mentally and emotionally scarred. However, Joe knew that it wouldn't be the last time Hallie would be facing danger- the world was perilous and everyday was a day of confusing choices and morally-compromising situations in addition the shadows lurking behind every corner, determined to snare some unsuspecting innocent soul into a hellish existence. Suddenly, he was extremely worried for Hallie. His feet twitched- he just wanted to run home right then, hold her and know that she was safe in his arms.

"Well, I think it's better if you teach her about safety and self-love rather than sheltering her away from the world. She has a life to live, you know.  Look, they're out." Frank nodded at the corridor and Joe looked up just in time to see an angry Conrad shoving a lethargic, pale waif of a man in front of him. They were accompanied by a police officer and, just by the smoldering embers of rage in Conrad's eyes and his clenched, shaking fists lying straight down by his sides,  Joe knew that Justin was spared a pummeling by his brother by the mere virtue that they were in a police station. Justin was much younger than Conrad, six years in fact. Frank had told Joe about Conrad before during one of their cases years ago which saw Conrad being charged with assault and landing himself in prison for a year and a half before being released on parole. However, while Conrad seemed cleaned up somewhat, his kid brother seemed determine to follow his old footsteps but with a bigger shovel with which to dig a deeper grave.

If he wasn't lying in his own coffin already.

Say 'Thank you' to Frank." Conrad growled at Justin, pulling his head up by the hair as Frank and Joe stood up when they approached. "C'mon, you punk!  Say 'thanks!'"  

Snarling angrily, Conrad smacked the back of Justin's head tight when Justin remained taciturn, causing the younger man to stumble forward. He would have fallen had Frank not balanced him by the shoulders in time. Without a word of gratitude, Justin proceeded to squeeze past Conrad and Frank towards the entrance of the station and Conrad, agitated, whacked the same spot harder again- the sound of a furious palm against numbed skull sent shivers down Joe's spine. Was that how Conrad discipline Justin? Frank would never lay a hand on him like this.

_Whack_! " Where's your bloody manners? Cat got your tongue? Huh?" _Whack!_

"It's okay, Conrad. Let him go." Frank pulled Conrad back by the shoulders and the muscular man spun around, staring at Frank incredulously. 

"Let him go? Let this jerkass go?!" He turned around and glowered at Justin who had stood still just a couple of steps behind the door with eyes gazing at a faraway place. He yanked his brother's head back painfully by the hair, screaming into his brother's scrunched up mien."He didn't even know what he did! What he had been doing with his damn. Screwed. Up. Life!" 

"Hey, this is a police station. Stop that violence!" The police man who had returned to his position behind the counter after accompanying Justin and Conrad out stepped out of his station and glared at Conrad who grunted rebelliously. Frank laid a heavy hand on Conrad's shoulder, admonishing his friend.

"Conrad, I said it's all right! Let him go! You're hurting him!"

Conrad panted heavily, his eyes darting around. Joe shot Conrad a steely glare which voiced his acquiescence with Frank's demands. Finally, after a tense spell of silence, he let go of his hold on Justin with a hard shove.

"We're going home. And you are going to tell me everything damn thing you did!"

"I didn't do it… I didn't do it." Justin mumbled listlessly and staggered out of the police station like a drunk. Conrad walked closely beside his brother, reaching out a hand to steady Justin whenever Justin seemed like he was about to trip over on his own legs. 

Joe and Frank followed behind the estranged brothers, afraid that Conrad would do something he might regret later, aggravating the tragedy. Yet, despite the rage, Joe could still recognize the brotherly love Conrad had for Justin which radiated out from every pore of the ex-gangster's skin. Nonetheless, it was a love marred by violence- Conrad seemed, from his display, more comfortable communicating with his fists than words of concern.

"Hey! Where are you going? Get in the car!" Conrad yelled after Justin who tottered aimlessly around the car park across the police station. He stalked ahead and grabbed hold of his brother's shoulder, brusquely spinning him around. "Where do you think you're going, huh? I'm going to chain you to your bed and make sure you reflect on what you did!"

"Didn't do a thing… going to find her. She knows. I didn't do a thing…"

"Snap out of it! Snap the hell out of it!!!" Conrad screamed in frustration and slapped his brother on the cheeks repeatedly, harder and harder. "Shut up! We're going home!" 

"Conrad, stop hitting him… he's in a terrible enough shape." Frank tried to pull Conrad away and Joe, Justin. But Conrad was too strong. He shook his shoulders in rage, flinging Frank's grip away. Justin appeared to be purposely galling his brother on as he broke free from Joe and hollered into Conrad's face.

"NO! I'm not going home with YOU! I'm going to find HER!" 

Conrad landed a blow to Justin's cheek before the Hardys could stop him, sending the boy sprawling on the hard, granite ground with a loud, bone cracking thud. He was about to lunge for Justin again when Frank stood in front of Conrad and pushed him back.

"Knock it off! You owe me one and now, I'm calling the favor. Stop hitting your brother! Listen to him!"

"Listen to him? Do you even know what he's done? Finally he gets a decent girl who somehow saw something good in that piece of crap and he did these… these unspeakable acts to her! She's a good child, only seventeen! You know that, Justin? Kimberly's only seventeen! Her parents are crying, grieving for their only child! You kept telling me you love her! That she made you want to change for the better but you sneaked her into to a freaking pub where drugs are readily available without thinking for her safety! Worse! You took advantage of her trust in you in the very worst way! Now she's dead! Dead, you know that? A girl on her way to obtaining a college scholarship died in your beat-up, filthy sedan. She died naked and violated by you! It's forever! FOREVER! She isn't coming back, you piece of shit! She's not coming back! She's already buried six feet underground and you can call for her all you want but she's gone! GONE!"

"I DIDN'T DRUG HER, OKAY?" Justin cried out from where he was, still lying on the ground, refusing Joe's attempts to help him up. His eyes puffy and red, he sputtered through his tears as blood trickled down his split lips, "I DIDN'T DRUG HER! I DIDN'T SNEAK HER IN ANYWHERE! I ONLY BOUGHT HER A SODA! THEY DON'T EVEN HAVE ALCOHOL! I WON'T LET HER TOUCH THOSE THINGS!"

"THEN WHY DID SHE DIE? IF YOU LOVE HER, IF YOU KNOW THE PLACE OFFERS DRUGS, IF YOU KNOW YOU'RE GOING TO DO IT, WHY DRAG HER THERE TO BE INFLUENCED?" Conrad shoved Frank out of the way and kicked his groveling brother. Justin clutched his ribs, rolling on the ground in pain.

"I don't know…she wanted to meet my friends. It's a cool place… many high school and college kids go there too so I thought it's okay. I just wanted to show her my side of town… let her know who I am so she can make a choice with eyes wide open… I wasn't planning on taking Ecstasy but someone passed it to me, free. Everyone was sampling some… I can't pass it up… I thought one wouldn't hurt… When I went back to her, I see her so… so free with her body. I can't control myself, bro. I was so high...and she was willing, making those moves on me… then she suddenly just blacked out and stopped breathing when we were in the car. I don't know… I really don't know…if I know, I wouldn't bring her there…"

"You brought her to a rave party, didn't you?" Conrad eyes flared with understanding. "Free drugs. YOU BROUGHT HER TO A FREAKING RAVE PARTY! A FREAKING RAVE PARTY WHERE YOU GO GET HIGH ON DRUGS! YOU!!!" 

Hunching over, Conrad pressed his palms against his forehead, his breathing unnaturally even paced as if he was trying to inhale in some control. "Did I teach you that? Have I ever taught you anything like this?"

Joe felt almost sorry for Conrad who didn't sound like he was asking Justin for an answer. If anything, his questions were rhetoric and nakedly remorseful. Frank hovered around Conrad awkwardly, apparently uncomfortable and unsure of what he could do to help his friend ease the blatant pain.

"There were two sides…" Justin whimpered, his deadened eyes welling into pools of night's tears. "I left her at the side where there's only soda and great music. She was having fun, dancing away when I left her to find Colin. I don't know she took something. I really don't… bro… I really don't know…I don't KNOW! DON'T KNOW!" 

Smashing his own forehead against the tarmac, Justin let out a sharp howl, berating himself as his face was smeared with blood. Joe grabbed Justin by the shoulders and tried to halt his destructive actions but, with surprising strength, Justin pushed him roughly away. Just as Joe and Frank were going to try together to stop the young man, Conrad approached his brother, his eyes smoldering with unspeakable emotions that even the shadowy night couldn't hide. Afraid of impending violence, Frank was about to lay his hands on Conrad again to calm him down when, to both their relief, Conrad simply knelt down and gently picked his brother up into a sitting position. Justin sobbed pitifully into Conrad chest as Conrad soothed his grimy hair, streams of saline trickling down those angry, dark eyes now burning with only love and concern for his kid brother.

"Bro, I'm so freaking sorry… I'm so sorry. I just want to die…She's not coming back! And it's all my fault…You're right… it's forever… it's freaking forever…"

"Shh….I'm sorry too, Justin. It's my fault as well. I wasn't a role model you can be proud of. Don't worry. You'll be fine. I'll see to it that you don't see dad. I believe you. You'll be fine." Conrad cooed, atypically loving, rocking his crying brother like he was calming a terrified baby who woke up alone in the dark to find monsters under his bed. Monsters now waging a war against two estranged brothers; monsters that Joe was glad he didn't need to see.

He turned away, eyes stinging with searing brine at the blatant display of a brother's love gone wrong somehow along the way and now, trying desperately to make amends. Swiping a stray tear away, he was gratified that it was sympathy he felt for the Daye brothers- yes, sympathy; not empathy.

***

"Nice place." Frank gave the small apartment situation in a decent, albeit less well-endowed, side of town, a quick once over. Conrad set two glasses of coke on the dining table and slumped down on a chair, exhausted.

"Best I can afford for the both of us. When I was out of prison, Justin had already gone astray. Only fifteen, he had tried all the drugs I did and more. Me? I got my high school diploma and there was a nice warden there- helped me land a good job. But I lost Justin to my old life…" He let out a self-derisive laughter, "Of all the people he could learn from- his gentle guardian, his upright teachers- he had to learn from me."

"But you cleaned up. He can learn that from you." Frank clapped Conrad's back encouragingly, "He can learn your willingness to admit your wrongs and strength to repent. He can learn your honor."

"I rather he not learned the bad things from me, so he doesn't have to learn whatever you just said."

"Everyone needs to know what I just said, no matter what situation they're in. You're not responsible for Justin's life, you know that. We can only be responsible for how we treat them, but we cannot be responsible for their successes or failures because if we are, then they will always be successful."

"You're right, Frank. I can only be responsible for how I treated him. But talk is cheap when my previous life had already been ingrained in his impressionable mind. Besides, I didn't treat him very good. You see how I was with him. Don't think I don't feel bad but at times, it seemed like the only way I can talk to him is knock some sense into his skull with my fists." Conrad slammed his right fist against his left hand, letting out a soft, frustrated growl. Frank could sympathize- there were times when Joe could irate him in the same manner as well. However, Conrad actually sunk down to violence, propagating the cycle of brutality his father started. For that, Conrad was responsible.

"Yah, you tend to use your fists too much. But we know how gentle you can be with him. I think he really needs that right now, rather than being kicked or punched… We need him to, well, talk. Not end up in the hospital, get what I mean?"

"If he doesn't talk, what can I do?" Conrad gestured at the door to the room where his brother was sleeping after cleaning up, lowering his voice next that it was almost inaudible.  "What are his chances?"

Frank pursed his lips- he couldn't lie to Conrad and it was better not to hold back too many punches, "As far as I know, he could be facing charges of manslaughter, attempted rape and outrage of modesty. Easily five years and above."

"Hah. He'll have a grand time with my old man down at Riker's, if he can recognize the jerk." Conrad voice dripped with bitterness and betrayal. Frank didn't probe. Harold Daye's abusive streak which was exacerbated by his abuse of alcohol and drugs had killed a man, drove his wife to her grave and ruined the lives of his two boys. Conrad was working hard to keep himself clean but Frank could see the tell-tale signs of defeats to temptations from the empty beer cans and empty minature hard liquor bottles left in the wastepaper basket. Rolled up cigarettes- definitely not containing the usual tobacco- were scattered on the coffee table as if forgotten in a rush to perform some other task and Frank raised a brow slightly at the sight.

"Listen, Frank, if it's not too much trouble, can you… well, look into this case for me? I know you're getting married and everything but you don't have to really go deep into it, just enough to proof that my brother is telling truth. … I… I believe Justin. I don't have much money, but I'll pay you… you know. I'll rent a smaller apartment… sell my Harley, cash in on my insurance…" Conrad clasped his hands in front of him on the table, his eyes flitting everywhere but Frank's direction. Frank knew how hard it was for Conrad to ask for help- especially from him. Though years could smooth the rough edges of cliffs, etched wrinkles onto the tough barks of trees and witness the rise and falls of great nations, some things would never change. 

"Don't worry about payment. You can repay me back by going completely clean…" Frank nodded at the cigarettes lying on the coffee table. "If you want Justin to change, you have to show by example."

"I am. Those are not mine, those are his…I found them in his room and was going to throw them away when the police called. But yah, I drink too much. A bit of my old man in me. I know that. Going for AA meetings… it's helping but I'm not really that strong."

"As long as you have made the choice, Conrad, the rest of the journey will come naturally. Listen, Justin didn't really mention the pub he went to. Do you have any idea or something? And his friends- people he knows who move around in the drugs circle…he mentioned Colin? His friend?"

"I'm not privy to that knowledge but yah, I know a friend of his, some guy called Colin Brown from his school. Ordinary name but extraordinary resourceful when it comes to obtaining drugs. Justin could have graduated on time if only he…" Conrad squeezed his fingers tightly until his knuckles bled white. His breathing grew heavier and more menacing- whoever this Colin Brown was, Conrad Daye obviously did not like him much. "His school gave him too many chances. They are getting sick and tired of my pleading. I beat Colin up once for getting Justin hook to those 'fashion' drugs. But they are firm friends. He tells Colin more stuff than he tells me. As for the pubs' angle… maybe Justin didn't mention it because it was not a pub or a club. I have been to enough rave parties. They can be held anywhere as long as it's discreet- a lesser known pub, a warehouse, some abandoned house. You don't get invited to these, right?" 

"No, I don't. It doesn't matter. I rather not, as well." Frank admitted stately, brushing it off. Rave parties were touted as 'fashionable' and 'posh', appealing to the individualistic non-conformist as it ran counter to the alcohol scene of profiteering mainstream pubs. But Frank knew it was a death trap owing to the buffet of drugs freely available and peer pressure, most potent in numbers, would probably had caused even him to succumb and be forever lost in some life-ebbing acid trip. "Colin Brown… that's a start. Where does he stay?"

"Brown Villa, atop Angela's Cliff."

"Angela's Cliff…" Frank mused, arching his left brow. He took the address down in his PDA and drank a little of the coke. "When Justin's feeling calmer, I'll talk to him again. Joe is just as adept as me in investigations, you can trust him too."

"I know. Just that… there's something about your kid brother that just annoys me the moment I see him. He messed up his life too, huh?"

"But he's carrying the consequences of his mistakes like a man should."

"At least he's a good father, going home to be with his daughter. Every parent should care about their children- it's only right. I used to hate you for having a good family. I can't deny I'm who I am because of my choices but they will have been vastly different had I a good father, like yours, you know, and if my mom was alive. I may not have to learn to be a human the hard way."

"I know. No one's judging you. Thanks for trusting me." Frank pocketed his PDA and stood up, ready to leave, "If Justin mentions anything that can help us along, do tell me too immediately. Ahm, here's my name card. Call me anytime." Drawing out his wallet, Frank retrieved a plainly decorated name card and passed it to Conrad who glanced at it before stuffing it inside his  breast pocket.

""No problemo. I'll be taking leave, making sure he don't skip town."

"You may lose your job if you take too much days' off" Frank cautioned gently, "I don't think he will run..."

Conrad shook his head dejectedly, cutting Frank off with a dismissive shake of his head. "My boss is a cool guy and besides, you dunno Justin like I do, Frank. Like you said, he can learn my honor."


	5. 5

Psychedelic Hollow 5

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"Oomph!" Joe had the wind knock out from him when Hallie, already dressed in her Donald Duck's PJs, flung herself on him the moment he threw the door open. For a few weeks since his hospitalization, Laura and Fenton had to stopped Hallie from jumping on him for fear that the impact would split his surgical stitches. However, he missed the enthusiasm in her show of love for him and thus, the moment his health was charged, he made sure that all limitations were lifted and she could hug him fiercely anytime she wanted.

Something was different tonight though. Instead of peals of delighted laughter, she was bawling, clinging onto his legs as her head tilted up to face his, bright blue eyes welling with tears. Joe knelt down immediately, holding her close to him as he stroked her lustrous locks and glanced quizzically at Laura and Gertrude who stood behind her.

 The two women shrugged shoulders helplessly and then, Gertrude pointed at Fenton who was observing the scene from the couch, a most culpable look on his mien.

"Daddy!"  Hallie wailed, tugging at his sleeves, "I don't like grandpa! I don't like grandpa! He killed Beeboo…"

"I honestly thought it was some spider crawling around…" Fenton tried to explain, gesturing to a plate of half-eaten chocolate cake on the coffee table "It was right over there, next to my slice of cake and thus…"

"He rolled the paper and smacked it before realizing it escaped from the matchbox a few centimeters away. Your daughter is inconsolable." Aunt Gertrude had annoyance written in bold on her forehead- being brought up by her since young when Fenton was away most of the time on cases, Joe knew she had no patience for crying children and she had openly expressed that her sentiments on Joe's indulgence in Hallie. Nonetheless, Aunt Gertrude would always be the person to buy Hallie the expensive toys that caught the little girl's eyes and if Joe was, according to her, spoiling Hallie rotten, she was sure trying her best to ferment Hallie into a demanding princess.

"I wanna Beeboo! DADDY! YOU MAKE BEEBOO COME BACK, OKAY?"

"Ahm, baby… listen.,." Joe bracketed her teary face and rubbed at her cheeks with his thumb, his heart plunging a little further down onto the floor with each drop of the bloated sadness. "Daddy will catch another spider for you…"

"NO! BEEBOO! I LOVE BEEBOO! I WANNA BEEBOO COME BACK! BEEBOO WENT SPLAT AND WON'T MOVE! I WANNA BEEBOO! Daddy… grandpa can't make Beeboo move… You come here… you make Beeboo move." Hallie broke away from Joe and tottered over to the coffee table, pointing at the newspaper desperately, "Make Beeboo move! I promise to be a good girl."

"Hallie, I don't think I can…" Joe tightened his lips and shrugged, feeling extremely useless. Hallie's eyes flooded again into gleaming blue pools of tears and suddenly, she burst out in fresh sobs and dashed up the stairs to her room, howling at the top of her lungs. Joe stood up with some struggle, exhausted from the day's events and dreading having to deal with such parental duties. Scratching the back of his head, he eyed his parents and auntie pleadingly. However, as if their actions were synchronized; they resumed to doing whatever they were apparently doing before. Laura started dusting a china vase on the mantelpiece atop the fireplace; Aunt Gertrude mumbled something about washing dishes; while Fenton sank down on the couch, feigning interest in a cartoon. 

"Mom… dad… . C'mon, what do I do?"

"Haven't this happened before?" Laura looked up from her dusting and threw Joe an innocent, wide-eyed look, "I think you'll know what to do better than us. She's your daughter."

"Oh, how dandy. First dad kills her pet and then, she's _my _daughter and not _your _grand-daughter!"

"Erm, Joe, she _is_ our granddaughter but I have faith that you're in the best position to placate her." Fenton grinned at Joe. Joe scowled at his father before walking over to the coffee table, picking up the rolled up newspaper to find a squashed spider stuck on it.

"She doesn't know what death is. How am I going to explain to her? I'm having a hard time with the  'Where do babies come from' thingy already!"

"Hmm…" Fenton nodded sagely before returning his gaze back on the television screen. "I sympathize with you completely."

"DAD!"

"Joe, just be a father…" Laura walked towards him and patted his shoulders, "She'll have to know such things. We would do it but we don't want to miss out on the most fun part of being a parent! Answering difficult, impossible questions."

"Mom!" Joe whined, aghast at the lack of assistance. Laura pursed her lips before nodding as if brimming with conviction over her own beliefs and started dusting again, whistling a happy tune.

"If you want my opinion," Aunt Gertrude stuck her head out from the kitchen, her hands already protected by the latex gloves the Hardys used for washing dishes, "Just leave her alone. The more you coddle a kid like Hallie when she cries, the more she will lord over you. You're already turning into her slave."

"Still you have to explain to her the situation instead of sweeping it underneath the carpet." Fenton gently peeled the carcass away and dropped it back into the matchbox, "I'm just surprise that you couldn't have given her another pet. What about hamsters and rabbits? Those are girls' pets. And if I know I won't accidentally murder a cute furry dwarf hamster or a genial, white rabbit."

"Hallie's my daughter. There are some traits she inherited from me…" Joe sighed, taking the matchbox from his father, "Please dad, if you see a lizard, spider or worm, don't kill it unless it's deadly poisonous. Hallie loves keeping them as pets. But none died on her before- they merely… well…" Joe paused for a moment, mild guilt washing over him, "… _escaped_. Beeboo is the one who stayed with her the longest."

"Right. I'll ask Hallie if those disgusting things are Beeboos before I flatten them." Fenton threw Joe an apologetic glance, "And I'm sorry, son. I honestly had no idea."

"It's all right, dad. Not your fault." Joe pocketed the miniature abode turned coffin and trotted up the stairs, his mind whirling with what he could say to make Hallie understand death and console her the best he could. _Oh God… _A stray thought came to him and he froze in mid-step as the swirling faces of Robert Thompson, Greg Bunhill, Justin Daye and the very dead Kimberly Crawell spiraled before his mind's eyes hypnotically, _Hallie could have known Death first hand… and the dangers are not stopped with Robert's death and Greg's arrest. She still has to grow up and there's drugs, violence…_

_Oh God… I could lose her in so many ways!_

"Joe, are you all right?" Laura's voice broke the hold that the particular disturbing thought had on him. He shook his head and threw a glance over his shoulder, smiling weakly at his concerned parents. 

"Yah, I am. Don't worry about me. I know what to say to her." He lied dismissively.

"I still think you should just ignore her for the time being." Aunt Gertrude opined with a censorious tone before disappearing into the kitchen again, clucking her tongue in disapproval. Joe sucked in a deep breath and prayed hard- now that he was nearing the top of the stairs, he could hear Hallie's heart-wrenching sobs. He knocked at her door twice before turning the knob, slowly walking into the dimly lit space. There Hallie was, sitting on the floor, huddled up tightly with her knees against her chest next to her nightstand. A pale yellow glow from her beside lamp illuminated half her adorable face- the flickering sallow glow seemed almost in fear of intruding on the angry, tearing little girl's face. She looked up, glared at him and then, remained extremely still.

Joe sighed, closing the door behind him.  He switched on the main light and sat down next to his daughter, holding the matchbox in his right palm and presented it to her. Her large eyes rounded with suspicious as she snatched the box from Joe. Scrutinizing it closely, she brightened up and pushed it open excitedly. Then, without warning, her jaw dropped in disappointment and Joe's heart plummeted to the ground.

She hurled it across her room, burying her face in her hands as her body shook with more tears.

"Beeboo all flat still! Beeboo is fat, not flat and squishy!"

"Darling…" Joe draped an arm across her shoulders, trying to gentle when broaching the delicate subject, "Beeboo isn't coming back…what's left is Beeboo's body but he has already flown to a nice place in the sky…"

_Great, Joe. Nice place in the sky._

"Maybe Beeboo sleeping like Daddy before? We put the straws into Beeboo and Beeboo wakes up?" Hallie uncovered her face and grabbed Joe's arm, pleading with Joe as her eyes widened like a hopeful puppy. Joe didn't' know what to do as his gut clenched most uncomfortably. He could feel the stickiness of her sorrows from her touch and yearned so much to just turn back time so this talk could happen at a later time. Firstly, he wasn't ready. Secondly, he didn't want Hallie's innocence to be marred further.

"Daddy's still… alive… that's why daddy woke up…" Joe narrowed his eyes, urgently appealing to the Almighty for some glimmer of wisdom. "But now, Beeboo is with God…"  
  


_Gosh, how did dad explained Death to me? Why can't I remember? Oh…_Joe recalled ruefully, _I asked the question and let my mind wander off to the newest He-Man figurine as he explained…_

_How the hell did I remember thinking about He-Man and not what he said? Doh…_

"With God? God took Beeboo away? I don't like! Ask God to bring Beeboo back!" Hallie shook his hand, whispering urgently, "God loves me… God will bring Beeboo back to me…"

"Ahm, Beeboo has gone to God… God didn't exactly take Beeboo away… well… hmm… I ah… well, whoever goes to God cannot come back again."

"But Jesus came back after three days!" Hallie held three of her right hand's fingers upright in front of Joe, "Three!"

"But it's different… Jesus is Son of God… He came down to become Man and after He died, he went down, not up to God yet. Then after three days, He went up to God again. And He is God so He's always everywhere…well…phew!" Joe swiped beads of sweat from his forehead- how did explaining about death morphed into a theoretical discussion about Jesus? As if he was the right person to ask about these things- idyllic hours in Sunday Classes gazing at the dark-haired girl seated in front of the small class came back to haunt him. Maybe he should start reading the Bible again- the one that Gertrude bought for Hallie with lots of cartoons and explanations- before Hallie could ask him anymore difficult questions.

"And Beeboo is not Son of God?"

"No. Beeboo is a spider created by God and now, he went back to God." 

Hallie frowned, looking down on the floor, wringing her tiny hands together, "Is Beeboo happy?"

"Happier than when he was in the tiny little matchbox." Joe assured his daughter, stroking the soft blonde hair. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head, "Grandpa says sorry."

"Is mommy coming back, daddy? Has she taken the plane to go up in the sky to God?" Hallie gazed at him and even though she was no longer crying, her eyes shone with poignant longing of the night anticipating day's arrival to just catch a glimpse of its splendid radiance. The way Hallie's mind associated different things together; Joe would never be able to comprehend. Nonetheless, her question struck a bitter, painful chord in his heart and he held Hallie close to him, letting the warmth of her living, breathing body seeped courage and strength into his soul. How close they were to not even know Hallie's fate- whether she was alive or dead and the overwhelming knowledge that she was alive that day, alive to greet him when he reach home, caused him to skip a breath. At least Vanessa didn't take Hallie halfway around the world with her. If she did, Joe knew he would be devastated. He would rather Hallie ask him tough questions everyday than to not have her by his side.

"No. She took the plane to Hong Kong. Hong Kong is a country in Asia… and she calls Hallie often, doesn't she?"

"Yup. But she's not here and I miss her more than I miss Beeboo. Daddy, why not you ask Mommy to come back? I like it when she and you bring me out all the time. I don't like it when either one of you are not around."

_If only I can, baby. I asked but she decided to leave still._

"I don't like it too and I'm sure she misses you very much. But mommy needs to do this so she can come back to you and be a better mother…"

"I rather she be here. She can be a better mother by actually practicing, not going away!" Hallie pouted, breaking away from Joe. Storming to her bed, she sat down heavily on the firm mattress and folded her arms angrily, her body bouncing a little from the springs.

"Well…" Joe knelt down in front of his daughter such that he was at eye-level with her. Ruffling her hair, he coaxed her with the only promise which he knew he could fulfill and which could bring a smile to those pouting lips. "Maybe this December, Daddy bring you to Hong Kong to find Mommy? We can spend Christmas with her."

"December!" Hallie exclaimed in horror, gesticulating wildly, "That's forever away! We go this weekend! Before my school starts!"

Joe straightened up and sat down on Hallie's bed, lifting her up to sit upon his lap, "Well, daddy needs to save up first to buy the plane's tickets. So December it is, all right? I promise you. If I can make it earlier, I will."

Hallie bored a penetrating gaze deep into his eyes. He returned the look, completely honest in every way with his daughter. Slowly, and to his relief, she smiled finally, happy again. "Okay! But now, I want a tarantula!"

"Tarantula!" Joe yawped, "You're a demanding little girl! No! Your grandma will scold me!"

"You told me you had one before when you were five! I'm already six and a half!" She argued and indicated to the forgotten matchbox lying on the floor, "Besides, Beeboo's gone to God. Mrs Applegate taught us that things happen for a reason. Maybe Beeboo's gone so you can buy me a tarantula!"

"Hmm…" Joe knitted his brows, not seeing the logic that Hallie vehemently believed in as she nodded her head vigorously to get him to comply with her wishes. Seeing that he was delaying in his reply, she jumped off his lap and stamped her right foot on the floor.

"TARANTULA!"

"Hallie, a tarantula is hard to keep…"

"TARANTULA! TARANTULA!  TARANTULA!  TARANTULA!  TARANTULA!  TARANTULA!  TARANTULA!  TARANTULA!"

"All right. It's nine already. Time for you to go to bed." Joe stood up and grabbed his howling and kicking daughter off the floor, playfully slamming her onto her bed. "Sleep now!"

"TARANTULA!  TARANTULA!" Hallie refused to lie down and sat up, pounding her hands on the bed. Joe head was swimming with a migraine- how could an angel transform so quickly into a little devil? This was perhaps the best time to ignore his daughter. He promptly walked towards her room's exit and switched off the light to Hallie's chagrin. 

"Daddy… you don't love me anymore!"

"Daddy loves you, honey! But unless you can prove to me you can be responsible for a big pet, I can't give you one." Joe, now standing outside, popped his head into the room, just about to close to door. Hallie let out an irritated grunt before slipping underneath her covers. Shaking his head, Joe shut the door and went back downstairs.

"Hon, your dinner's in the kitchen. So, how did it go?" Laura, now watching the television with Fenton, asked him as he slumped down on the two-seater at the side, mentally blanked out.

"Just bright and chirpy! She's all happy now." Joe smiled tiredly, pretty proud of himself despite his exhaustion. Laura beamed at him but, suddenly, she indicated behind him with a nod of her head anxiously. Joe glanced behind and groaned miserably.

"DADDY!" Hallie yelled from the top of the stairs, her arms akimbo and her eyes flaring with childish fervor, "BUY ME A TARANTULA!"

"Joe, she's _your_ daughter." Fenton peered from under his glasses at Joe and Joe was willing to bet that his father was smirking inside.

_"BUY ME A TARANTULA! A TARANTULA! TARANTULA! TARANTULA! TARANTULA!"_

"I knew it! You're spoiling her and soon, our house will be filled with creepy crawlies just like when you were kid!" Aunt Gertrude frowned at him as she exit from the kitchen and climbed up the stairs to do just the opposite of what she preached as Joe buried his head in his hands.

"Here, sweetie. Aunt Gertrude will buy you a bunny tomorrow. Now, go and sleep…"

"Tarantula!"

"Right. I heard you! A fluffy, little white bunny."

"No! A tarantula! Hairy, big, black spider!"

In spite of himself, Joe burst out laughing as Aunt Gertrude and Hallie's voices grew fainter. Laura stared at him in horror, most probably terrified that his wounds would split open from the force of his hilarity. He wanted to make some comments about Aunt Gertrude's selective hearing but each time he tried, he would break into fresh burst of giggles along with Fenton who was infected by his contagious mirth. Laura shook her head and smiled as she stood up from the couch to grab a magazine from the ornate bookshelf against the wall.

"So, son, now you know how difficult it is to be a father." Fenton mused, "But trust me, do it well and the results are worth every drop of sweat and tears."

"I know. I know it now even. But dad…"

"Yes?"

"Please don't make my job any more difficult by killing any more of Hallie's pets… please, please, please, please, please…" Joe begged his father dolefully with hands clasped together. Fenton stood up and went behind him, patting his head.

"No problem. And you… behave yourself. Your mom tells me you've been neglecting your diet and eating way too much sweet and fatty stuff." 

"Aw…" Joe twisted his lips to-and-fro, "All right. I'll watch what I eat from now."

"Better keep your promise. You don't want to end up diabetic." Fenton chastised Joe. Joe turned around and stuck his tongue out at his father.

"For fifteen seconds before I gobble everything down!"

"Laura…" Fenton yelled across the living room to his wife, "He's _your _son!"

***

Frank cradled his cell phone between his neck and cheek as he tossed spaghetti over the stove. Callie was taking forever to answer the call, a habit of hers which never failed to irritate him on a bad day. However, he had since found ways to get over his frustrations with her delayed response to the phone- in between waiting for her to pick up the call, he would occupy himself with other chores. Multi-tasking- he was exceptionally adept at it and right then, he would have to garner all his wits to prepare for the wedding, help Conrad Daye with his request and send his tuxedo for dry-cleaning all in the span of a week.

"Darling! I'm so sorry. I was in the restroom!" Callie chimed after the umpteenth ring. Frank sighed and switched off the electricity for the hot plate stove, proceeding to dunk the spaghetti ala canned tomato sauce into a plate.

"Cal, you have nothing to be sorry of… hang on…" He took the plate to the bar counter in his apartment's kitchen and set it down before properly holding on to the phone, preparing himself for breaking the news to her, "How are you, darling?"

"I'm feeling grand! You must try out the new massage parlor down at Chijmes Galleries! The masseurs there are absolutely fabulous!"

"I know they are when you are gushing about them in a fake Brit's accent!" Frank teased his fiancée, wishing she was right with him then. A bland spaghetti meal always tasted exceedingly good when he shared it with her." I have something to tell you, Cal. But first, you must promise me that you won't be mad…pretty please?"

There was silence from her side. Frank stopped whatever he was doing, his nerves sizzling into overdrive with some nervousness. Only Callie could reduce him to such a quivering mess. Though he knew she would go to lengths just to make him happy, he had always been rather frightened of hurting her or maddening her.

And then, there were times he wondered if they had to sometimes go the extra mile to please each other was actually healthy for the relationship...

_Never had to be on jitters around __Nancy__ when I tell her I'm on a case…_

_Bad Frank! Naughty Frank!_ He slapped the side of his head to expel the thought. Maybe he should just relinquish the case completely over to Joe. Working on it would place him in close proximity with Nancy Drew and he was in a quandary as apprehension and excitement pulled his sentiments into two polarized directions.

"Okay… spill it out." Callie voiced finally. Perhaps she was trying to sound like she was faking anger in good fun but he could hear a slight, edgy tone sharpening her words.

_Just spell it out like it is._

"I'm on a case. The news recently about a high school girl who died due to bad reaction to a date rape drug? Her boyfriend is implicated and he's Conrad Daye's kid brother. Conrad asked me for help… I can't… you know…"

"Is that it?" She sounded a little startled, "From your anxious tone, I would have thought it's more than that."

"It's so close to our wedding… I'm worried you'll be a little pissed that I'm taking on a case."

"I'll be pissed if you take on a case to shoot evidence for adultery or something akin to that. But… I know you, Frank. I'm going to marry you. And I know it'll just kill you if you can't help Conrad… so… go. Take on this case with my blessings. Just make sure you're in the church on time."

Now, it was he who grew silent as he was speechless, bursting with so much emotions that he couldn't even think. She didn't sound wearied- definitely not like a resigned love throwing in the white flag. In fact, she sounded like she truly understood. If they ever fight, it would most likely be some competition she conjured up between his commitments to his cases and to her. And right now, at this crucial moment when he was charged with an additional and almost equally important responsibility, she didn't hold it against him. A glow flushed his face with fever- that of the fervent of true love reassured.

"I love you." He whispered almost painfully as a sadly sweet yearning coiled around his heart, squeezing it achingly with thoughts of her. A week- they had waited years for this day and at times, they could be apart from each other months. However, he was almost certain that he couldn't survive the week without her.

"Love ya too. Darling, do you know that the hotel sent us a complimentary penthouse suite to spend a night in?"

Frank smiled, hearing the ruffle of papers in the background. He could just imagine her pretty eyes rounding with excitement at all the little freebies they were getting. Leaning back against the cool metal backrest of his bar stool, he twirled his spaghetti with a fork and heard her mumbling to herself.

"Ah ha! I found it! I can't believe a wedding is so much paperwork! My room is flooded… listen to this… Enjoy a night of pleasures and indulgence at our penthouse suite with complimentary luxurious treats at our highly acclaim spa… . Ooh… not only that! We have a thirty percent discount expiring in two years' time to a world class resort in Mauritius! You want the details? Or are you busy?" Callie asked hesitantly. 

"Hit me with them, darling." Frank drawled and laughed lightly when he heard Callie rattle on about the resort and when she felt was the best time to go. The nitty-gritty didn't matter to him at all, what mattered was that her voice was keeping him company, even though her person couldn't.

An hour after his late-night dinner and about twenty minutes after his call with Callie ended, the phone rang again and he rushed to answer it, thinking that it might be Callie wishing him sweet dreams. He couldn't sleep if she didn't cosset over him via the phone every night and each coddling session could last up to an hour or so. Clicking the 'talk' button, he breathed her name, panting from the slippery run from the bathroom to the phone.

"Cal…."

"Conrad here…"

"Oh…" Frank dragged out, taken aback and embarrassed as his cheeks reddened from both awkwardness and the hot shower. The towel around his waist loosened from the mad dash and he cradled the phone with his neck, readjusting the damped piece of cotton. "Hmm, what's up?"

"Waiting for your girl to call? Sorry…"

"No worries."

"Justin skipped town. I don't know where he is. Went down to buy dinner and…"

"Whaa…come again?" Frank was instantly alert- he was more than willing to post bail for Justin but should the kid go missing, a substantial part of his savings would fly away. He knew he wasn't a stranger to generosity but he wasn't _that _munificent. The prospect of losing the bail was crawling all over with those hairy, spine-chilling spiders he hated so much. "Justin skipped town?"

"I'm sorry, man. I should have been watching him…"

Frank squeezed his eyes shut, using every bit of energy in his cells to smother his anxiety and tiredness, stilling his heart and mind. "All right, give me half an hour. I'll be right over."


	6. 6

Psychedelic Hollow 6

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"I'm sorry, Frank. He said he wanted to sleep and I thought I won't be long and I wasn't. Anyway, I was only gone for twenty minutes at most when he split. Damn!" Conrad growled and slammed a fist hard upon the boot of Frank's Lexus. Joe, his mind drifting far away from Conrad's tirade as his muscles twitched, aching to get into action, jumped a little, startled. He shot Conrad a dirty look, who, as usual, ignored him, and grunted, earning himself the same look from Frank.

Frank- his intelligent brother who was somehow too kind-hearted for his own good. Joe was most willing to bet that Conrad had a hand in Justin's disappearance. 

"Real sorry, Frank. I can't…  . You really didn't need to help us. That ungrateful piece of crap!" Conrad's hefty chest heaved heavily up and down with unspeakable rage, "I really shouldn't have just left him alone!"

_Damn right you shouldn't. Gee, you sure look really guilty about it._

The brothers and Conrad Daye were at the car park of Bayport High which was closed for the last week of summer's holidays. Soon after Frank picked Joe up from the house, Conrad called again, asking them to make a detour to the school as he suddenly remembered that Justin had a love affair with the rooftop of Bayport High. Five stories high, the building could be fatal, especially if Justin was on an acid trip. 

However, when they reached the school's compound, all was empty save Conrad leaning against his Harley chain-smoking away, judging from the scatter of crushed cigarettes' butts all around his feet. Heavy sheets of silence hung above them as they searched the compound again for signs of Justin but he was nowhere to be found. The tense quiet was punctuated occasionally by outbursts of expletives from the gruff hulk and Frank's soft, calming words. Joe didn't know what his mother ate when she conceived Frank but she sure ingested more than a fair share of patience and composure into her eldest. Joe would have immediately pounced on Colin and screamed bloody betrayal.

But since Frank didn't, Joe would respect his brother's choice of diplomatic action and continued belief in an old friend. However, Joe could recognize the doubts veiling Frank's dark eyes when he suggested before they met with Conrad that Conrad could have assisted Justin's escape. His brother was kind-hearted. Nonetheless, he was no idiot sitting there like a duck waiting to be shot.

"Do you know where he often escapes to when he's down besides here?" Frank asked, his eyes sweeping the school's car park and beyond as if he had bionic sight to spot Justin wherever the punk was. 

"The row of arcade centers down by Cole's Quay … wait, that was when we were kids…" Dark clouds eclipsed the glint in Conrad's eyes and he shrugged, drooping his gaze onto the concrete ground as his head hung in shame, "I don't really know where he could be, actually. He could be at Colin's, since Colin's his best friend." 

Joe exchanged a look with Frank. Best friend. Colin. Frank nodded and from the look of recognition in his brother's eyes, Joe knew Frank had an inkling of who Conrad was talking about.

"We should take a look. Conrad told me Colin's address… if that doesn't work out, we can always search those arcades."

"Roger, bro." Joe opened the car door, "But I think Conrad should go back home, just in case Justin was merely taking a walk."

"You don't tell me what to do, blondie." Conrad snarled in response but Frank laid a hand on Conrad's shoulder. 

"I think you should stay home too. It's late. You're angry and Joe may be right. If Justin's home, you can call us and we can stop the search." 

Nodding in reluctance, Conrad wordlessly walked away from the Hardys and seconds later, Joe heard the Harley rousing with a melodic purr, and he listened admirably with some envy at Conrad.

"Funny how when I suggest the same thing _politely,_ he's still rude to me." Joe scratched the side of his head, "And blondie is such an insult!"

Frank slipped into the driver's seat as Joe closed his door and buckled up. "Forget it, Joe. Some prejudices are hard to let go of but one day, he will."

"I don't really care about what he thinks of me. Just pissed about what he _said about me." Joe crossed his arms angrily, "Blondie! Bah! If the stereotype about blondes and stupidity is indeed true, I'm the exception."_

"Yup, you're absolutely right. How about we perm your hair and dye it black after this?" Frank teased, "What say you, blondie?"

"Oh, just shut up and drive…" Joe glared at his brother, thinking of a wisecrack but failing miserably, "Brownie!"

"No _sirree_… I'm a scout. Last I checked, I still got it all."

"You know what I mean." Joe muttered sullenly, "Let's hurry and get your money back or Callie's going to scream at you for being so stupid."

At the mention of the small fortune, Frank's mirth dissipated as his lips disappeared into a thin line and his eyes glazed over with some latent anxiety. It wasn't Joe's fault that Justin ran away but, seeing Frank so quietly despondent made Joe feel rather culpable for the remark. He slumped in his seat as tightness squeezed his chest, occasionally stealing glances at his brother, wondering when it would be okay to apologize. They drove in silence for a moment before Joe finally plucked the courage from thin air.

"Sorry, bro. I didn't mean that. Callie won't scream or anything… you know her, she loves you, man. And we'll get the money back. _And… you are not stupid."_

Frank grunted, turning into a lane which would lead them up a picturesque cliff. __

_God… is Frank going to throw me into the ocean? I always knew it! The quiet ones are the crazy ones!_

"Sorry… man… hmm… you know… blondes are dumb… dumbeedee dumb dumb! We don't always think before we speak. Haha!"

"Hmm…" Frank glanced at him weirdly as he stopped at a red light, "Hmm."

"Remember! You love your little brother very, very much!" Joe threw his brother as big a hug as he could from across the gearbox. "And your little brother got a sweet little daughter to take care of!"

"What rubbish are your rattling about?"

"I don't know! You look so angry! I got a little… well… worried." Joe fumed, gesturing around, "This is good place to beat the crap out of me!"

"Will I beat the crap out of you?" Frank burst out laughing, and that exclamation of amusement lightened Joe's heart immensely from the guilt of a thoughtless remark. "If I have such tendencies, you'll be black and blue a long, long time ago!"

"I… well… I know. You know something, I wonder what would happen if say, we are like Conrad and Justin…"

"Forgiven, bro. And we won't." Frank promised, ruffling his hair roughly, "Coz if we are, then we will not be us. So we won't, coz we are us. They probably just weren't themselves too."

"I knew it! Your brains are fried coz I don't have a clue what you're talking about." Joe threw his hands up in surrender at Frank's baffling words. _But that's you, bro. Joe thought fondly,_ Always throwing odd sayings like these to make yourself sound smart!__

"Nay, my brains aren't fried. You just didn't get it because you're a blondie."

"Oh! Just shut up already!" Joe sank back into the bucket seat, twisting his lips this way and that in dire annoyance. Finally, he decided that everyone was just jealous that he was so blond, so cute and so _smart._

***

Frank threw his keys on the coffee table with a loud clang as he heard Joe plopping himself onto the long couch. His brother sat sprawling with his head resting on the top of the couch's backrest, his breathing slow and laborious, that of someone mentally and physically fatigued by _fatigue _itself. At four a.m. in the morning, after a prolonged, wee-morning search, Frank was feeling enervated as well and he knew that Joe, owing to those injuries, wasn't as fit as he used to be; as Frank was _accustomed to seeing him as. He locked the door and smacked his parched lips- thirst was giving weariness a run for whatever amount of money he had left as his number one peeve right then._

"Want a drink?"

"Noooo……" Joe drawled, lolling his head to one side. His closed eyes occasionally twitched with spasms and Frank decided to leave him alone to rest. In the dark and forlornness of night, every sound was echoed to ten times their normal decibels. He cringed when the jolted bottles slotted in upright on the fridge door's shelves clanged and clinked as he opened it, not so much out of his own discomfort but for fear of waking his kid brother.

Thus, all motions ceased for a moment and silence blanketed the house again. As quietly as he could, despite his cottony limbs, he managed to draw out the bottle of ice water and shut the fridge's door gently. Downing the bottle's entire contents in slightly more than a few gulps, he turned to his left when he heard the shuffling of footsteps dragged across the floor.

"Frank… you got an extra duvet for me? I can't get used to sleeping without something wrapping me up like a cocoon." Joe leaned against the side of the kitchen's entrance, rubbing his eyes, "Damn, I'm tearing…"

"Why not you go rest on my bed? I'll take the couch."

"Nah… I'll take the couch… it's your house…"

"And you're my kid brother. C'mon, don't argue with me at this time… I ain't the energy for it." Frank threw the emptied plastic bottle across the distance into the sink. Both brothers winced as the bottle knocked against the metallic sink with a series of resounding '_plonks_'.

"Do you have to do that?" Joe groaned as he followed Frank into his bedroom, "My ears hurt…"

"I'm too lazy to walk… sorry."

Joe threw him an annoyed glance before plopping down onto one side of the king-sized bed. "Hey, your bed's so big. We can share… You can take the other side. I don't think I'll kick you off the edge this time."

"Don't worry 'bout me. Nighty-night, kiddo."

"Night." Joe mumbled, slipping under the covers and nodded off to sleep. Frank smiled, never ceasing to be amazed at how Joe could just fall asleep without much ceremony. Switching off the lights and turning on the air-conditioning, he closed the door softly behind him as he left room, thoughts about the case trickling slowly back into his brains. He sank down on the couch and pulled off his t-shirt, using the remote control to activate the antique ceiling fan. With only the songs of crickets and the soft whirr of the revolving blades accompanying him, he hunched over the coffee table and drew out his PDA from his pants' pocket to scribble into the word processor- an action which could always help him brainstorm.

Colin's house had come as a shock to Frank when he first learned of its address from Conrad. He had always pride himself as being able to float above the stereotypes but sometimes, certain revelations could still caused his pupils to dilate. Drug addicts were often portrayed to be either reckless college kids or young, rebellious teens who grew up in lower-income neighborhoods. However, Colin clearly belonged to an upper-middle income class family. His family's bungalow nestled peacefully in an expensive suburb of Bayport which was developed atop Angela's cliff that overlooked the Atlantic Ocean. However, a pictorial sight was all the brothers got. They rang the doorbell repeatedly but no one answered nor spoke to them through the intercom. After a long wait, they had no choice but to leave the place. 

Then it was down to those sleazy arcade centers that Conrad vaguely remembered his brother visiting; centers that Conrad had brought Justin to during his wayward days when no one was at home to take care of the little boy. Again, the search was futile and tedious but the thought of the money, which was meant for the wedding and marriage, kept Frank going and Joe following closely behind, supporting him.

_"I… well… I know. You know something, I wonder what would happen if say, we are like Conrad and Justin…"_

_Now, Frank smiled wryly at the memory as he toyed with an idea, __What_ would happen if Justin was like Joe instead? __

_Conrad probably wouldn't have that much on his hands thought he might be irritated to no ends. Joe has a good head on his shoulders. _

_But a good head can easily turn astray without love and concern. _

_The trials of parenthood… hey, I may just end up being a father by next year…no… that… that may not be a good idea…_

Old fears haunted him- since the kidnap of Hallie and abduction of Callie, the demon lurking behind him gorged itself silly on his post case paranoia. He remembered fearing for the safety of his unborn children when Hallie was taken away from them but when Callie and Joe almost fell as a permanent victim to Richard Thompson's perverted motives, the sense of loss and anguish churning within him had been inundating, flooding his entire being with that sense of hopelessness and failure that he wasn't sure he could live with had Callie, Joe, Hallie or all were to succumb to life-ebbing harm.

He understood what Joe was talking about when he said he wanted to bring Hallie up in some isolated island far away from the vices and yawning manholes of the world. Frank would add in another clause- away from the dangers of their chosen occupation.

Shrugging the demon away for a moment, he tried to concentrate at the case at hand. Although he was tired, he couldn't help but want to seize every second and solve the mystery quick- it wasn't about the money only- it was also about wanting to be right about Conrad. Frank wasn't close to the ex-gangster but he had respect and faith in the guy. Because of their past history, Frank felt a strange sort of affinity to the brusque spirit. He knew what he did in the past for Conrad had influenced Conrad's change of heart and in a way, he took pride in Conrad's reform and would feel more than betrayed if Conrad had been exploiting him all along.

Tried as he might to stay up, droopy eyes refused to co-operated, as did the sludge he called his brains sloshing in his skull. Accepting his limits, he stood up and almost fell backwards when he lost his balance for a moment as his knees doddered from exhaustion. Sighing, calling it a night, or rather, a day, he retreated back into his cooled bedroom only to find Joe spread-eagled across the bed, snoring softly. So much for sharing- he never liked to share sleeping space with Joe anyway. When they were children and had to sleep on the same bed when traveling overseas with their parents just so the whole family could be housed in the same hotel room, Joe had always managed to kick him off the bed onto the carpeted floor to their parents' amusement.

Trudging back to the living room again, he stripped down to his boxers and, after hurling his jeans onto his t-shirt lying in a heap on the floor, he slumped down face flat on the leather couch but his eyes could not close as his thoughts, though impossible to sort out right then, kept blaring in his mind. 

_What if Conrad was really helping Justin to escape? What if I have been played like a fool?_

_What if?_

He didn't know when did he start to doze off into a dreamless sleep or how long had his eyes rested. However, when he woke up feeling that he was on a canoe adrift on rocky waves, the first person he saw was Nancy looking down on him, gently shaking him awake with some concern shining in her eyes. 

And then he was fully jolted from his sleep upon the sight, not that she was hideous looking- no way. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks as he scrambled up for some sort of covering. 


	7. 7

Psychedelic Hollow

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Chapter 7

_"You don't have to be so flustered." Nancy rapped on Frank's bathroom door, rather entertained by Frank's antics. The moment he woke up, he stared at her like she was some angel of death for a few seconds before muttering a croak that sounded vaguely like 'hello'. Then, face red and flustered, he dashed for his bathroom. She knew exactly what he was afraid of and he needn't worry about a thing since she wasn't bothered at all, "It isn't like I haven't seen everything before…"_

_Laughing softly in amusement, she froze for an instant when, suddenly, she became aware of the silence inside the bathroom when it sounded like a monkey was raiding through it just a few seconds ago. Her earlier words replayed in her head in a tone that was anything but jesting._

_Realizing how he might have interpreted what she said, she cleared her throat, almost as awkward as he was._

_"C'mon, Frank.… I'm sorry…It didn't come out the way I wanted… I didn't mean to…"_

_"It's all right…" Frank hastily emerged out from his bathroom, with dripping hair, wet face and a rumpled bathrobe that messily offered some sort of decency, "What brings you here and how did you get in?"_

_"I called you this morning. Joe picked up the phone and he seemed to be in some hurry. Just gushed about Justin disappearing and how his daughter needed him. I had your invitation card with me, checked the return address and found my way here. Knocked a few times, tried the lock and then, whoala! Your door opened. When I stepped into the house, you were mumbling in your sleep, looking pretty disturbed so I thought I'll just wake you up. Don't worry. My eyes never traveled below your waist."_

_He blushed, knocking his forehead with his fist, "I'm going to kill that forgetful nut. He must have just left the door open."_

_"Not 'open'. Unlocked." She corrected him and suddenly, a mental image caused her to break into soft giggles, dissolving all the discomfiture of just now. "If it was opened, you may have died of embarrassment now."_

"_Huh?"_

_"Your neighbors will be crowding outside, looking in on you."_

_"Oh…" Frank's eyes hooded with anxiety of what could have been had Joe been more reckless in his unintentional sabotage, "That's a scary thought… thank goodness it's only you then."_

_"Right.__ I'll always remember what you told me before. When your basement's flooded, be thankful it's not your attic."_

_"Drew… do you have to rub it in again?" He scowled at her and she punched his forearm playfully._

_"I'm sorry… I won't tell." She swiped her right index finger straight across her lips, "Zipped."_

_He smiled crookedly, cheeks still flushed from the embarrassment, "Want coffee?"_

Coffee. That was the second cup of coffee she was sipping for the day though the one she had at Frank's apartment was way tastier because of the person who prepared it for her. Frank didn't touched his though, he merely surreptitiously observed the maid who scuttled away to one corner and stood still with her head bowed down. Then, Nancy watched as his keen eyes gave the living room of the bungalow a once over, _again. She recognized that habit of his- Frank was already sizing up Marcie Brown before he even met her, preparing himself for the kind of woman that he might have to face off._

The drive to Brown's Villa had been casual, in fact, _too casual. Somehow, the imminence of friendship and _something more_ which she felt they connected on when she was in apartment just vanished as time passed until she wondered if she had imagined it or worse, the __connection  was only her wishful thinking._

Throughout the ride, they bantered and joked about current affairs, politicians and life in general, something they often did when they strolled hand-in-hand in Central Park, giving new meaning to the term, 'guilty pleasures'. This time though, the chasm between the both of them was wide enough to swallow a herd of elephants and the inane rattles only served to accentuate the metaphysical distance. He did ask her for an update on her life during the drive but she merely managed to voice a weak, "All right" before changing the topic to something that she couldn't even recall. 

"She's going to be difficult." Frank said finally, picking up the delicate china cup from its equally exquisite saucer. "Whatever it is, don't be intimidated."

"I am never intimidated, Frank Hardy." Nancy drawled wryly a split second before she realized that Frank was actually reminding himself, not cautioning her. Frank gazed at her oddly before his eyes twinkled along with that smile of his- the smile that had set the slow dismiss of her relationship with Ned in motion. 

"Never said you were. Terrible place to be living in. I can almost smell the stench of overprotective control."

"Now, someone's getting judgmental."

"Not judgmental. I'm only voicing my thoughts. I can always be extremely wrong. But our living space is often a reflection of ourselves- either we are exactly like our rooms appear to be or the opposite, which means we are born liars, lying to ourselves even when we are in the most intimate and private space we have."

Nancy swept her eyes across the room and sniffed the _stench_ that Frank was speaking about. The furniture was formal and carefully placed- the neatness gave rise to an overbearing emptiness. This seemed to be a woman who was very cautious of appearances- nothing was out of place. Awards, trophies as well as gorgeous classical artworks were prominently displayed, definitely meant to impressed, not for critiques. Her servants spoke in low tones and were too eager to please, almost afraid of offending. 

This place was house but its overwhelming hollowness caused it to fall miles away from being a home.

When Marcie Brown arrived into the hall from upstairs with her shifty, skinny son ambling behind her dourly, Nancy knew at once at Frank was _very_ right. Her black hair was pulled back into a severe bun, elongating harsh, gray eyes and highlighting those jutting, stern cheekbones. Dressed in a black, immaculately pressed power suit, she appeared more like a draconian director attending a board meeting than someone welcoming guests.

In stark contrast, Colin Brown was an ordinary looking boy with the same look of angst mirrored from Justin Daye- reeking of the same miasma of waste as well. His oversized t-shirt was dirty with the stain of oil and grease, most likely from working on cars or motorcycles. Lackluster brown hair curtained his eyes and he swiped at his fringe occasionally. 

If Nancy was to guess, she would never, in a million years, think of the both of them as mother and son. The only similarity they had was the same condescending glint in both their steel eyes.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting." Marcie Brown shook Frank's extended hand when he stood up to greet her. Nancy stood up as well, giving Marcie hand a firm shake when she acknowledged her. Colin simply grunted and slumped down onto a velvet armchair furthest way from them. When Marcie turned around, Colin sat up straighter immediately but the moment Marcie looked away, Nancy saw Colin scowling at his mother with positively lethal eyes. There was no evidence of love lost between mother and son.

"No worries. I'm just honored that you could see us at such sudden notice." Frank sat down only after Marcie took her place on the settee opposite them though Nancy was long settled on the couch, having no patience for such pandering. "I'm Frank Hardy, Private Investigator."

"And I'm Nancy Drew, FBI."

"I know. If it had only been you, Mr. Hardy, I wouldn't have brush aside my carefully laid out schedule." Marcie stated casually, no doubt aiming that little tidbit straight for Frank's heart with the intent to crush his confidence. However, Frank wasn't daunted. He merely smiled and sipped some coffee, brushing the comment aside as he would a fly. With a side glance, Nancy caught Colin smirking in that corner of his and her intuition informed her that he might be sneering at his own mother, rather than Frank.

"She's always a busy woman. But of course, she can't wait to find out what her vagabond son is up to, _again_." The young man yawned, looking bored until Marcie narrowed her deadly eyes at him and he stiffened again. The dynamics between the two intrigued Nancy- Colin would take as many pot shots as he could at his mother but the moment Marcie showed any signs of anger, Colin would cower.

And yet, he would muster up more guts to start the cycle all over again.

"Colin here loves to spout nonsense. Of course he wouldn't have broken any laws, would he? And I do hope this meeting will be short. I'm preparing to fly off to meet my elder boy who's studying in Princeton."

"Next, she will be telling you about my sister who's heading our family's business in Asia."

"Colin! That's enough! Will you be a dear and just speak when spoken to?" Marcie's tone swung violently from admonishment to saccharinely sweet. He bristled and sank into the seat, almost disappearing into the shadows. "Good. Now, what brings the both of you here?"

"Actually, we want to ask Colin some questions, we have made it quite clear to the servants…" Nancy exchanged a quick look with Frank who nodded. He wanted some time alone to interview Colin as well. Marcie wasn't about to let her son talk much.

"As you can see, my son is rather inept at making conversation. You can speak to me. I know him and his movements very well. I can answer all your questions." Marcie smiled at them mirthlessly, "Carry on."

There was a pause but before Nancy could speak, Frank beat her to it. "A client of mine, Justin Daye, is missing. Since he's a good friend of yours, Colin, we will to ask if you have any idea where he can be."

She marveled at how naturally Frank addressed Colin instead of Marcie, causing Marcie to be quite infuriated. The dragon lady threw her son a cautionary look but no one missed the immediate concern softening the young man's features.

"Do you know anyone called Justin Daye, Colin?" Marcie asked her son poisonously sweetly_, _her tone laced with powdered arsenic_._

Colin glanced flittingly at Frank and Nancy before casting his eyes onto the floor, "No, mom."

"He doesn't know the person you're talking about. You must have gotten the wrong person. Colin Brown is a very common name."

"We are aware of that. We are also aware from reliable sources that we haven't got the wrong guy. Colin, Justin may be in big trouble here. If you are worried about your _best _friend, you can do no wrong by helping us." Nancy looked at Colin earnestly but it was clear that even though he was displaying nuances of defiance, he wasn't going to disobey Marcie on this point.

"I don't know Justin."

"Justin's life may be in danger." Frank persisted, "You do know Justin, why don't you help us bring him to safety?"

"My son has time and time again told you that he doesn't know Justin Whoever. Now, if you may, please leave." Marcie waved at the frightened maid, "Show the guests out, Annie."

"Yes, Madam."

"Your time is up, detectives. I wish you good day. Come, Colin. Help mommy pick an outfit to meet your brother." She stood up and Colin followed her. However, as he climbed up the stairs, he asked his mother loudly, as if broadcasting what he was querying to the departing guests as well.

"Mom! Did you read the obituaries yesterday?" 

"No… why will I do that for?" Marcie replied irritably.

"Oh…" Colin shrugged, tucking his long fringe behind his ears. The servant, Annie, had already opened the front door and was ushering them out but Frank held onto Nancy's hand, nodding at the exchange between the mother and son. The both of them loitered around the vestibule, listening closely, much to the servant's disquiet.

  
"I just thought maybe one of our relatives in Port City died or something."

"You're out of your mind. We have no relatives in Port City."

"That's what I thought so too, mom. You're absolutely right, as usual." Colin responded smoothly, glancing over his shoulder at Frank and Nancy lazily.

But the flash in his eyes told them the banter was anything but idle chatter.

***

The morning sun was piercing into Joe's eyes and though he was awake, he wasn't feeling like he had a fantastic rest. Waking up with the lingering ghost of Iola coiling in his mind from a dream he couldn't remember, he was baffled as to why he would suddenly re-visit a history that he had already moved on from, despite thinking back on it once in a while with poignancy.

However, the call from his daughter had all but exiled those wordless questions to the back of his mind. Hallie woke up and, seeing that he was not at home, worked herself up in a state of panic and phoned him, urging him to 'go home' and 'be with her'.

Rocking the porch swing gently, he flipped the page over and was heartened to find those famous last words of those ageless tales, "And they lived happily ever after." _Amen! Finally!_

"Daddy…" Hallie snuggled closer to him and dropped her head on his forearm, "Snow White's pretty stupid."

He tucked the book into a corner of the porch swing and draped an arm across her small shoulders, "Why?"

"Because she was dumb to have fallen for the same trick thrice." Hallie pulled her lips tightly and wrinkled her nose, "Her mommy and daddy must have never taught her that she cannot open the door to strangers or accept anything from someone she doesn't know."

Arching a brow at his daughter who sounded rather precocious that morning, he thought over her logic and was pretty proud of her to have such opinions. The simple story took almost two hours to finish reading because throughout, Hallie was interrupting him with questions that he had asked himself when young but never found satisfying answers. And if the last comment she made wasn't a perfect lead for him to start guiding her about the darker side of life- a side in which she was thrown into in the very worst way- he didn't know what was.

_Daddy, how can an apple be half green and half red? And how did the stepmother cut the apple in half, put the poison in one side and then put it together again? Wouldn't the poison spread? _

"Maybe her parents taught her but she forgot."

"I know mommy taught me and I never forgot…" Her sweet face shadowed over and she twiddled her thumbs, "Stupid Snow White. First someone came in to strangle her. Then push a comb into her head. Now, she ate a funny looking apple given by an ugly looking witch."

"Hallie, bad people can look very kind and gentle too… maybe the picture got it wrong. Maybe the witch looked kind and gentle, and that's why Snow White thought she can trust her."

"Maybe." Hallie muttered, "Some bad people are bald and have beady eyes too."

Joe felt a stirring of emotions strangling his chest, emotions which had been swept under broken glass. Richard Thompson. The bastard kidnapped Hallie and shot his gut. Because of that, Hallie would always have a demon lurking behind her- sometimes it would lie sleeping, sometimes it would hover quietly. But it was always there and its presence loomed over the innocent glow of her golden hair menacingly. He could only pray that, one day, Hallie would find the strength to turn around and grabbed it by its neck to show it who was boss. And he would teach her how- he would stand by her side and fight it with her the moment she was ready. For now, he would have to fend it off whenever it decided to come out and wreck havoc on a young girl's soul.

But Richard Thompson wasn't the only monster- Greg Bunhill, Vanessa's second husband and her _daddy Greg_, had masterminded the act of utmost evil. And Hallie trusted him- she couldn't understand why Vanessa and Joe just told her that Greg did something bad and had to be put away in jail. She couldn't understand why Vanessa told her that if she ever saw Greg, she must never follow him or have anything to do with him.

She couldn't understand but her questions were left unanswered. _"Until she's older…" Vanessa had implored Joe, _"Right now, let's just tell her that he is a bad person."__

Pulling his daughter in closer, he kissed the top of her head and banished those fears away- those doubts that taunted him and made him obsessed over the horror that he had failed as a father and would always be defeated by his own monsters.

"Don't be afraid, sweetheart. Daddy's here…" He tilted her chin up so that her watery orbs were looking straight into his. "I will take care of you, forever."

"Daddy, I'm sorry I was so naughty yesterday." Hallie threw her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest, "You won't be like mommy? You won't just leave me? I woke up today and Grandma said you're not in. I'm scared..."

"I will never leave you, sweetie." Joe spoke, gazing into her eyes, his promise crafted from the flesh of his heart and christened with every single drop of blood in his body, "Never."

"I'll never leave you too, daddy. I wanna always be daddy's little girl." Hallie smiled at him, her cute little milk teeth white and gleaming, "I don't wanna go to any stinky schools or make stinky friends. I'll always stay at home with daddy and daddy stay at home with me."

"Hallie, who taught you to use the word 'stinky'?" Joe pinched her nose lightly, "And schools are not stinky… neither are friends."

"Well, they are if they don't bathe! I heard Grandpa saying the thief in the movie is a 'stinky' S.O.B. Why can't he just say 'sob'? Why must he spell it out? He can't pro… pronounce 'sob'.?"

Joe didn't know if he should laugh or cry but he made it a point to tell Fenton to try and curb his passions when watching those cops drama that could always set his blood pumping with vivid memories. "Hallie, don't ever say, 'S.O.B', okay? It's something that will make people think you're someone who isn't educated right and you'll be hurting whoever you say it to."

"So I can't say that I'm 'sobbing'? I must say I'm 'crying'?"

"No… 'S.O.B' and 'sob' are different."

"How different?"

"Different…"

"But they are spelt the same!" Hallie persisted, clutching the material of his t-shirt which, as he didn't bathe since reaching home, was rather 'stinky'. "S.O.B! 'Sob'!"

"Hmm… Hallie, S.O.B is a bad word… people who don't know better use it to insult other people's mothers."

"Why would they do that? You mean 'sob' is a bad word? Like 'crap'?"

"No, no… sob is sob, S.O.B is S.O.B. And who taught you 'crap'?'" Joe was fairly aghast right now. Fenton must have been sitting on the couch for too long and thus, had the time to think of the most ingenious ways to torment him for running away seven years ago.

"I dunno. I heard you say it quite often. I was saying it when Grandma beat my hand and scolded me, saying it's a bad word. But it means the same as poo poo. Why is poo poo bad? Everyone poo poos."

_Oh, it's me this time. Darn!_

"It's not bad… it's the way you use it…" Joe scrambled his brains for a better explanation, "It's when you use it to voice your frustration, to scold other people and alike, then it's a bad word."

"Daddy… what is frus… frustr…" Hallie frowned, unable to catch the enunciation yet, "…frustion?"

"Ahm…" Joe was never too good with explaining vocabulary and he regretted not bringing a dictionary out, "Like… your chest feels tight and you're angry at something and can't do a thing about it… hmm…" His phone vibrated in his jeans' pocket then and, thanking heavens for the distraction, he planted a quick kiss on her forehead before retrieving the cell, "Hang on darling..." He glanced at the caller ID, "It's your uncle."

"No! It's a phone." Hallie pushed away from him and pouted, folding her arms angrily.

"Okay, it's your uncle calling me." Joe shook his head and pressed the 'Call' button, "Hey, Frank. Sorry, I didn't tell you that I had something urgent and important to do at home so I left early…" He tussled his daughter's hair as he spoke, "Hope you had a great sleep!"

"Great sleep your fat head! You left my door unlocked and Nancy made her own way in." Frank hissed, as if afraid someone near would hear him, "She saw me in my boxers and only my boxers!"

"Hmm… interesting…" Joe smiled wickedly, "Did she have a camera with her?"

"Joe! I couldn't have been robbed! Or someone could have, as you put it, come by with a camera, take pictures of me and put them up on the internet or something!"

At times, Frank imagination could really go all wild. Joe giggled and couldn't help the next remark, Frank did kind of asked for it, "If that someone has no taste… then... that's a possibility. Face it bro… Frank Hardy in a pair of boxers is nothing like _Joe Hardy in a pair of boxers…"_

"Daddy… how can you be in a pair of boxers? What if they box you?" Hallie shook his arm and Joe realized his slip. He grinned at her goofily.

"Ahm, then I'll kick them. Hallie, I'm talking to your uncle… so… later, all right?"

Hallie glared at him before jumping off the swing to stalk into the house.

"See…bro… now my precious' mad at me."

"Ha! It's your fault. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with letting her know what's a pair of boxers…"

"Maybe when she's older." Joe scratched his neck, feeling the birth of a pimple on the back and rubbed at it with some annoyance, "So, boss, what do we do today?"

"I know where Justin may be. Read the obituary?"

He remembered the dream and the thoughts of Iola. The water dam broke and a knowledge that he already had started to dawn on him- he began to understand the mystery that his heart had already unraveled.

_That's it!_

"He went to visit Kimberly's grave in Port City!" Joe exclaimed before feeling a stab of pity for the poor kid, "He missed her funeral though."

"Bingo! How did you guess?" 

He leaned against the swing and rocked it gently, pushing his feet against the ground to propel it into motion, "I didn't need to guess. Let me go and find him, bro. You know as well as I do that I'm probably the best person to handle this."

There was silence on the other end and he could almost see the sadly sweet smile on Frank's lips. He didn't need to even question if Frank understood- somehow, he knew his brother's thoughts were in sync with his.

"Right, kiddo. I'll bring Nancy to Conrad's place and we'll wait for you there. Don't exert yourself, all right?"

"Right, Nanny. I better get going then…"

"Take care, little bro."

Joe jumped off the swing and stretched himself, grinning widely, "Sure, bro…"

_I'll bring __Nancy__ to Conrad's place…_

"Frank? Have you given Callie a call yet?"

"No, why?"

Joe scrunched his face, torn between trusting his brother to know what he was doing and yet, _worrying_ for the toll Nancy's presence could be taking on Frank's devoted fidelity to Callie. "Oh, nothing. Ahm, she's a girl after all, with you working on case… you know… she may miss you."

Frank let out a soft laugh, "I _get_ what you mean. Thank, bro, for the reminder and for being so _subtle about it."_

"Anytime, Nanny…" Joe repeated the new pet name he had for Frank with increasing attachment, "Anytime."

A few minutes later, after he changed into a fresh shirt and checked in on his daughter who was still sulking in the living room, busy crossing out the cartoons on her coloring book with angry red streaks, he sighed and wished, for once, that he didn't have a case. Yet, without a case, he would not be paid and there would no money to buy a tarantula thus he walked over to her and kissed her goodbye.

"Aren't you going to kiss daddy back?"

She shook her head and he sighed, leaving the house with a heavy heart as duty called.

Rolling his Land Rover out of the driveway, he was about to wind up the windows when suddenly, he caught Hallie dashing out of the house from his rear view mirror. He glanced behind and saw his daughter standing in front of the porch, waving at him vigorously.

"I love you, daddy!"

_These are the moments I live for. She is who I live for._

Smiling, he swiped a tear away from his eye as he unbuckled his seat belt and exit the car. Running as if his life depended on speed, he grabbed his squealing daughter and planted uncountable kisses all over her sweet face.

_And this..._He thought as he looked at her- her cheeks were smudged with crayon and her dress all grimy already,_ This is love._

_My love._


	8. 8

Chapter 8 edited

Psychedelic Hollow

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

_Funeral.__ Of course! Why didn't Frank and I think of it yesterday? But I'm too late now… he's not at the any of the cemeteries._

Joe drove down the roads of Port City, keeping an eye out for Justin. He empathized with Justin's guilt, recognizing the kindred sentiments within himself. He had drowned in the same aura of desperation about eight years ago. The thread of innocence snapped when his world was reduced to ashes by a mushrooming explosion that blazed for a longer time in his soul, razing his entire being. And it devoured everything around and within him until the concern from his relentless loved ones finally breached the walls of fire he surrounded himself with, cooling his anger and grief with loving tenderness. Vanessa and Frank had been a huge part of his recovery from a depression that manifested itself in the form of anger and recklessness. Sure, his heart was in all the right places when he hunted down criminals heedlessly many years ago. _In all the right places,_ he thought as his lips stretched thin with the remembrance of Iola, _All except one._

_Vengeance.___

He recalled the early days following Iola's death- the endless days and eternal nights. It didn't matter where he was; he just wanted to be as close to her as possible. One night, Frank even found him sleeping by her grave after a harried search. Those were the days when he couldn't even bear to be himself and hated his very own skin. Those were the days when his family's love for him was put to the test and succeeded most triumphantly. Those were the days when he found a courage in him that he never knew he had, a courage that guided him to survive the wreckage of the explosion, the ruins of his marriage and the rubbles that was his life before.

A courage to heal and leave the tragic past behind- stronger and wiser, a victorious survivor.

It was when he was circling Port City for the third time that he realized he had neglected to call Frank. Frank might worry, but he doubted it. Maybe, after seven years of absence, Frank might finally recognize that Joe was all grown up- that he didn't need to baby Joe anymore nor compromise parts of his life to watch over his kid brother. 

His lips curled faintly. _We are brothers, _he thought, _United but distinct._

_God help me if he's like Conrad, man…_

Before he could pull over and make a quick call to report his actions back to his _boss cum Nanny_, his cell phone rang. Stopping the Land Rover by the curb, he answered the call.

"Hey, I was about to call you…"

"Right…" Frank's wry reply spoke volumes about his faith in him to finally be responsible enough to report his safety, "If I never call, I think it'll be tomorrow before I know if you have found Justin." 

 _You may as well say 'If you're all right and alive. Now that I know, I can take another breath.'_

Joe bit his lower lip, feeling the mild sensation of ire rising up his throat. He didn't begrudge his brother's concern for him but the call was really no big deal- he didn't understand why Frank couldn't just let go of the protective streak. Even their parents had long demolished the shield they surrounded him with.

_Looks like he doesn't know I don't really need that much concern yet._

"Look, I have already been to Port City Presbyterian Cemetery but there's no sign of him. I'm still there… here… whatever… now." Joe looked around him and shrugged, "I'll circle a while more. Maybe visit the church again."

"Hmm, you shouldn't be driving for a prolonged time. I'll come over and help you search, all right?"

"Frank…" Joe dragged, "I can already jam brake without discomfort to my wounds. And I'm really, really okay."

"I am not, well, forget it…" Frank sighed and Joe smiled, relieved for he knew Frank caught the message that he had so blatantly put across. Right now, he would just listen to how Frank twist his entire intention into another motive which could justify his earlier request just as well, "I guess I just wanted to come find Justin before he hitches a ride out of Port City or something." 

_Smooth, bro. Hitches… hmm… what if Justin didn't have the money to return back to Bayport? He would be looking for a ride…_

"Frank… let me go check out something first. I'll be back to tell you if I need help soon." 

"Aren't we partners, Joe? And you… well… ahm…" Frank's voice grew smaller and much more cautious, "You really shouldn't be driving too much. There! I said it! I don't care, Joe. It's barely a couple of months since the operation… "

"Do we have to go through this again? I won't exert myself, all right? When my _healed_ wounds suddenly split open, become infested with blood spurting out and all the gore and pus…I'll call you."

"Joe…" Frank drawled in annoyance.

"Frank…" Joe echoed Frank's sentiments back perfectly.

"All right. Have it your way. Bye. Call me when the gore and the pus… you know."

"I know." Joe, despite his bravado, shuddered at the gruesome imagery, "Bye!" 

He clicked the call away and threw his cell on the passenger seat before making a three-point turn towards the direction of Bayport. About an hour later, he arrived at a rest pit just next to the winding road which would lead out of Port City, through the woods, and into Bayport. Stepping inside the decent, white-washed 24 hours diner, he surveyed the place keenly and spotted a young man whose face was buried in his hands as he slumped over the table, merging with the shadows overlapping the corner booth. The filthy brown hair, now encrusted with more dirt than possible, ascertained the person's identity for Joe. Striding up, he slipped into the seat opposite Justin and roused the sleeping young man.

"Hey, wake up."

"Wha… what are you doing here?" Justin lifted his head up, his bleary eyes instantly alert after recognizing Joe. Sitting up with some struggle, he rubbed away the coagulated sleep and scratched his hair violently, reaching for the cup in front of him only to throw a dirty look when he realized it was emptied, stained with the brown muck of leftover coffee left standing for too long.

He nodded at Joe, frowning suspiciously, "You followed me?"

"No. I guessed you'll be here. If I had followed you, I'll have found you a long time ago." Joe called for the waitress. "Been here the whole night?"

The kid nodded, slumping over the table again, his vacant eyes staring into empty space.

"Ate anything?"

"No. You buying me food?" Justin hungry eyes darted to the large, fluorescent menu behind the counter, "I don't mind a burger."

"You sure don't stand on ceremony." Joe groused, "A please will be appreciated, you know."

"Aw, crap with the lecture. I had enough from my bro."

Joe shook his head at the insipid youth. The waitress came and without much thought, he ordered a deluxe burger set and a chicken salad. They sat in silence until the order arrived. Justin eyed his order curiously, "You going to eat that crap?"

"Yes. I am. I have no choice. Finish your food."

"Why no choice?"

_Enough twenty questions! I'm already exhausted answering Hallie's. God!_

"Because I was injured in a shoot out. My pancreas' half gone and I don't have a spleen anymore. I am going to be diabetic if I don't watch what I eat." Joe rattled off the naggings of Frank and his mother which were already ingrained in each and every cell of his body. Strangely, Fenton, the disciplinarian, had been pretty relaxed on him, trusting him to do the right thing.

"No shit!"

"Yes, shit. Almost saw Christ." Joe mumbled, stabbing listlessly into the salad before deciding that it was really the closest thing to defecation he could find. He gulped down some water before pushing the salad aside as Justin wolfed down his burger rapaciously, occasionally breaking for a long, satisfying sip of coke.

"Want some fries?" Justin stopped eating, looking at Joe with some sympathy, "I got a skinny body. Don't need to eat so much."

"No, you take them."

"Ok. I offered." Justin devoured those crispy, fatty, salty, oily, delicious, absolutely tempting junk cholesterol and calories as Joe watched, trying to be disaffected.

"Oh, I'll have one."

"One will be two will be three. It's like those pills, you know." Justin snatched the basket up from the table, "I changed my mind about the offer. If you become diabetic and fall dead in front of me, I'm going to shoot myself."

"I won't die in front of you. I just want a fry and I can eat it in moderation!" Joe reached across the table for the fries. Seeing his persistency, Justin stuffed everything in his mouth before Joe could even touch the basket.

"Hey! I paid for it!"

"Yah…" Justin raised a hand as he tried to gobble everything down without choking. He swallowed hard one final time before setting down the empty basket onto the table, leaving barely even a crumb. "But you also told me about the pancreas and spleen crap. Connie's going to kill me if anything happen to you. He's always talking about how the Frank Hardy turned him around and stuff like that."

"I'm Joe Hardy." Joe growled, sinking into his seat. 

"Right. The one who knocked up some babe after causing the death of another girl."

Joe sat up straighter, "Conrad told you that?"

"Nay, not Connie. Town gossip. You Hardys were famous. Everyone wants some dirt."

"The town said that?" Joe was even more incredulous, "What else did the town say?"

"That you knock up the girl and forced her to go for an abortion. She wouldn't. Then you had a change of heart and asked her to leave her mother to elope with you. Basically, things didn't work out. They said you hit your wife and ruin her life. I know it's not true… some old hags don't know what they're talking about…" Justin gave him a once over, "I think you're cool though. You bought me food."

"I didn't know…" Joe felt a sense of betrayal by his hometown. He knew there were sure to be colored views and people who couldn't see beyond the distance of their pointed fingers. But he didn't know the gossips were so rampant and _pestilential_- his mother, a member of quite a number of social clubs in Bayport, must have been at the receiving end… .

_No, not only mom… but dad, Frank… damn! Everyone who cares about me!_

"Did you kill your first girlfriend?" Justin asked out of the blue, his vapid eyes now haunted with guilt and the need for absolution, "How did it feel like?"

Joe snapped his head back to Justin, taken aback by the question that stirred up emotions and memories lying under broken glass for a long time. He had healed from the wounds but the scars remained and sometimes, they throbbed.

"I…" Joe cast his sight onto the table and grabbed the glass of water, drinking from it thirstily.

"You feel like killing yourself because it hurt so bad? I do."

"You know something, Justin? It felt terrible. Heard of survivor's guilt?"

"No. some new mental disease?"

"No…" Joe smiled at the kid benignly, "My first girlfriend died in a bomb explosion meant for me."

"Oh… an accident then…"

"After I ignored her because I was flirting with another girl. She asked me to help her get some pamphlets from my car but I told her to go while I was making moves on someone else." Joe sucked in a deep breath, "She stormed away to my car, opened the door, triggered the bomb and was vaporized."

"Vaporized?" 

"Nothing left of her to bury." Joe explained, trying hard to swallow the hard, bitter lump in his throat.

"Oh." Justin's eyes hooded over again, "It's still an accident. A freakish one but… not your fault. I thought you set the bomb on her or something."

"And what about you?"

"Me?" Justin sipped his coke distractedly, "I don't know. I just wish I haven't brought Kimberly to the rave. She was curious about it too… and I thought if I'm there, no harm done. My bro's right. Drugs ain't worth it. If I hadn't been high, I might have spotted something was wrong with Kim and maybe get her to vomit out whatever she took or something… maybe…" He mussed up his hair again as his breathing turned ragged then suddenly, stilled. "Maybe she'll be here… you know. I really love her, man. But I don't even the guts to go to her grave and I don't have the money to take a bus back. She must be laughing at how pathetic I am."

"She loves you. She won't be laughing. She will be holding you when you cry for her." Joe dropped his tone, recalling Justin's admission of suicidal tendencies, "And she'll be heartbroken if you choose to end your life."

"How do you know?"

"Those who love us will only want the best for us, not destruction or evil. Conrad will be extremely sad too and who knows when the cycle will end? It's hard, I know. I can understand how you must be feeling because I felt the same way too. But when times are tough, like these, we must be even braver and more hopeful… and persevere. You get what I mean? You'll be smiling again. If you end it, then not only will you die most unjustly, those who love you will also be stricken with the weight of your death. Give yourself a break and some chance, will you?"

Justin eyed him guardedly before his face fell, "I wish my bro talk like this to me. I tell him I going to kill myself, he'll dunk my head in water before beating the crap out of me. Then we'll both cry but it's a bit too late for apologies."

"I know he wish it too. But he has issues of his own as well. Just know this, okay? He loves you very much and practically offered my brother his entire savings to look into this case for you. And he hates to beg. He begged not only my brother but me, for your sake. He just didn't know what to do. He has to be your mother, your father and your brother. It's a responsibility that can kill anyone but he's bearing it the best he could, the way he knows how, misguided as it is. Maybe you can have a talk with him, tell him to stop hitting you. Conrad is not unreasonable. He hates himself for treating you the way he did. The both of you can work this out, definitely, and forgive each other's failures. And I sure know he blames himself for your state now." Joe pushed Justin's chin up so Justin was facing him eye to eye, "You ain't a bad chap, maybe just misled. And we're doing all we can to help you but you must help us too."

Justin blinked, clearing his eyes of tears. He rubbed his eyes hard before inhaling deeply. "The rave party was by word of mouth thingy. I don't know who set it up only that it's at warehouse No. 13 every Friday night at Bayport Industrial Park. Sometimes the warehouse changes but it's almost always there. Anyone who _knows can go. There's always two sides- a tamer side for causal goers and a closed door party for insiders. I'm not an insider but Colin is. He gets me the drugs and stuff."_

"You didn't tell the police because you're afraid that Colin will be implicated?"

"Colin's my best buddy. He doesn't always have the right solution to everything but at least I feel like I can be myself in front of him. Even Kimberly can't give me that freedom to be myself because I'm scared I'll lose her if she knew I'm such a loser. For all his bad points, Colin doesn't judge people." Justin looked at Joe intently, "Colin's cool."

"Did Colin give you the ecstasy pills?"

"Yes."

"Then he's not that cool. Friends don't give drugs to friends."

"He buys the fashion drugs, I buy the usual hardcore stuff. We split money and share these things though since he's richer, he buys more… It's not totally his fault too. I'm not like the unknowing, gullible friend. We are in this together."

Joe watched Justin carefully- he was taking responsibility for all that he had done, not laying the blame on Colin or even Conrad. He could have easily ranted at Conrad's past crimes and vices as heavily influencing his choices but he did not. For that, he gave Justin props. Everyone make their choices. There would be influences but God gave everyone freewill to choose, a heart to feel, a mind to think and a conscience to guide. 

And of course, courage and strength to admit one's mistakes and make amends.

"And now?" He asked quietly, "What do you think of all these now?"

Justin averted his gaze and rubbed the sides of the disposable cup, "I just want her back. I wish I have never touched the shit. Those darn drugs. But I'm hooked… you know."

"Honor her death then, by going clean and starting afresh. Bayport's Helping Hands is a good rehab."

"You think I can?" Justin looked up, searching Joe's eyes for a vote of confidence, "Start afresh? You think she'll forgive me?"

Joe smiled at the kid, nodding supportively. "Yes. As long as you believe in yourself and give yourself the chance, you can."

The younger man's eyes glazed over as he pressed the back of his hands, propped up against the table by the elbows, against his forehead.

"And Justin?"

"Yah?" His voice was breaking and the single consonant sounded squeezed from his heart.

Joe leaned forward and, bearing the image of Iola's pixie and eternally youthful mien in his soul. He needed to say what he was going to say next, not only for Justin but for himself. 

"She has already forgiven all there is to be forgiven, because of love."

Justin uncovered his face, his lips twitching as if to say something. Instead, his right palm flew to cover his eyes as he turned away, his thin shoulders shook with the violence of tears.


	9. 9

Chapter 9

Psychedelic Hollow

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Frank switched off his mobile and gave Nancy a small shrug. Crossing his long legs which were stretched at an uncomfortable angle because the width of the table was too small and he didn't want his to brush across Nancy's, he set the phone down on the table and glanced at it quickly, just in case Joe changed his mind and called.

Five seconds passed and Joe didn't happen to the phone. He heard Nancy's soft laughter and looked up, arching his brows.

"Hmm, I got something on my face?"

"Nope. I can't hear Joe's reply but you sure sound like his _mother_ and now, you're looking real pissed." Nancy giggled, almost choking on her soda. Frank curled his lips crookedly, embarrassed and misunderstood all at one go. She sensed his discomfiture and her eyes softened with a mixture of sweetness, seriousness and concern. However, she shook her head and twirled the fancy straw in her pink colored drink.

"I know you have something to say, Nan." Frank remarked as he cut his rosemary chicken. Nancy ordered Caesar Salad and was almost done while he was having some trouble finishing his food. His stomach felt pulled in a multitude of directions and any food that was introduced seemed to invite nausea.

But still, he exercised control and smiled easily- _naturally._

"Nope, nothing. Just…" Her head tilted down at an angle as she stabbed at her salad, a whimsical smile gracing her lips, "Nevermind, Frank."

"Hey, it's all right. I'm so used to being asked difficult questions- I had a lot of practice in the past when dad asked me about Joe's whereabouts all the time."

"It's not a question… just an observation…" She looked up and scrutinized him deliberately with those intelligent eyes, as if emphasizing her comment. Involuntarily, he was drawn again to those eyes which he had once swam in the depths of- scouring out, with heartrending and unspeakable emotions, those cracks of vulnerability in the particularly seasoned gaze of a young woman.

An excruciating twist of his chest was all that he needed to remind him to obliterate any straying emotions and thoughts. In any case, he knew he was only pained by the memories of a past that was, perhaps, best left forgotten.

"Observation?" He placed his fork by the side of the plate and drank some water. This wasn't a good place to bring Nancy for lunch. A cozy café with heavy curtains blocking out most of the sunlight such that it was romantically dimmed inside with the cliché, yet effective, flickering glow of a candle on each table stirring up whatever little feelings inside into amorous passions. 

_Next time- Burger King.___

"Yah, I know you've always been… well, protective over Joe. And anyone will naturally assume such brotherly protection will simmer down with years… Doesn't seem so in your case. If anything, you sounded rather…" She narrowed her eyes, as if mildly agonizing over her choice of words next, "How should I put it?"

Frank smiled good-naturally, "Paranoid?"

She snapped her finger and grinned, "Yes! How did you guess I was going to say that?"

"I didn't need to guess, Nan. The word's dancing on your lips the entire time."

Smiling wryly, she played with the remnants of her salad and glanced at him briefly, "Right, I forgot. You used to be able to complete my sentences."

"And you, mine. I don't think we'll ever lose that connection." He replied softly. In a silence heavier than gravity, they finished the late, dragged out lunch. Waiting for the bill to come, Joe messaged, informing them that he was coming back to Bayport with Justin. Frank settled the tab and guided Nancy by the shoulders out of the café. Throughout, he hadn't a clue what to say to her- inspired contents rarer than dodos and small talk too banal to even try making interesting.

Too many thoughts were whirling in his mind to endeavor making Nancy feel comfortable. He knew she was increasingly awkward with each tick of the clock- digital, analog- he didn't care. So was he- it was harder to let go of the memories than he thought it would be. Undulating emotions, alternating between the joys of seeing an old friend and wishing she had never come at all, swell and rose most irritatingly in his stomach.  Moreover, there was the little act that Joe did which added to his ire. His kid brother had _messaged_, not called. And he didn't want to phone Joe back- Nancy was right. He was paranoid and he didn't exactly like being that either.

_C'mon, open the door, Connie!_

He rang the doorbell again and grinned sheepishly. Nancy gave him a half-shrug, indicating that she was all right with waiting longer than necessary. Frank knew Conrad was at home- he had called Conrad about fifteen minutes earlier and the man said he would be waiting for them. Not to mention, Frank thought he saw a shadow over the peephole. Sick of the wait, Frank pounded hard on the door.

"Conrad! Open up!"

Finally, the door swung opened. Conrad eyed Nancy skeptically and, from that instant, Frank knew why Conrad had hesitated in answering his door. However, there was no escaping the introductions. Cordial, but rather formal, the greetings were suffered through and it was apparent that Conrad's suspicions grew more foreboding after learning that Nancy was with the FBI. Throughout the short introductions, Conrad shot Frank dirty looks. Frank could understand where Conrad was coming from- Justin was a suspect and Frank had betrayed him by bringing someone from the law in. The law was prosecuting Justin and Conrad was certainly not feeling too friendly with it right then.

They convened around the dining table and Conrad brought out some cans of soda for them. He sat down opposite Nancy and Frank, pulled the tab off his can and drank deliberately, never lifting his steely sight off Nancy.

"Nancy Drew? You and Frank are good friends?"

Without missing a beat, Nancy smiled genially and the old ache tugged at Frank's heart. A heartfelt smile was powerful, he thought. It could tear down walls; it could draw enemies in as friends; it could save lives, it could stop wars. 

It could inspire love. 

_But no more_.

"Yes. We know each other since high school during an inter-school debating competition."

"Hmph." Conrad grunted, glancing at Frank with some mistrust. "Knowing her for long doesn't make it okay to bring her into this case."

"I assure you, all I want is to find a lead into the suppliers of Rofomyn." Nancy said gently but Conrad brushed her off with a wave of his hand.

"I know how you cops work. My friend who never sold drugs in his life was set up by a cop and still serving time in jail. I don't trust you guys. Give me a reason why I should allow Frank, whom I hired, to let you into this case and share privilege information with you?"

Nancy inhaled in deeply, the smile still on her lips. Frank knew she was about to blow from the interrogation. With some amusement, he wondered if Nancy was finding it easy to be on the receiving end after giving it for the last few years. She looked at Frank, a subtle call for help in those summer blue eyes. Frank shrugged and leaned back against the rickety dining chair, feeling much less tense suddenly as a drop of humor lightened up his nerves. Nancy could handle it by herself.

She threw him a lethal glare matching that of Marcie Brown and he grinned at her wickedly in reply. Annoyed by him, she turned to Conrad who was seated to her left and gazed at the hulk piercingly without fear or prejudice.

"Do you trust your brother?" Nancy asked somberly. Perhaps rather surprised by such a direct and forceful approach in a _girl, Conrad's eyes widened slightly before he furrowed his thick brows and growled._

"Yah."

"Then you have nothing to worry about from me. I'm only looking for the suppliers. If you trust your brother's innocence, then my co-operation will only serve to hasten your brother's acquittal from manslaughter and rape."

"Frank..." Conrad turned to him and nodded towards the bedroom he shared with Justin, "Can I have a private moment with you?"

"All right. Nan, I won't be long."

"Don't worry about me. I'll make myself comfortable." Nancy took a drink of soda and smiled at him in mock surrender. She had said all she could- it was up to Conrad to believe her now.

Conrad shut the door gently but not before sneaking a wary peep at Nancy. In the dim room, Conrad paced up and down while Frank sat down on one bed and waited until his friend worked out his anxiety and frustrations.

After a few minutes of stalking and hair grabbing, Conrad stopped and faced Frank squarely, "Can she be trusted?"

"If she can't, I wouldn't have roped in her assistance."

Conrad sank down on the bed next to him, burying his face in his hands before he spoke next, lowly. "I let Justin go. He told me he was leaving; I gave him bus money and just sat on the couch."

Frank blinked, finding it difficult to reconcile with what he had just heard.

"Buddy… you all right? I'm sorry. I guessed I didn't openly help him… but I did give him bus money."

" 'cuse me, Conrad, I think I need time-out right about now." He stood up with some struggle and was about to open the door when Conrad, following right behind, shot out an arm to stop him, grabbing him hard by one shoulder.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about it. I mean, Justin said he needed to some place for a while and that he would be back. I wanted him to be honorable and come back after he did what he needed to do but at the same time, I can't help but wish he found some way out of this. It's not looking good. I read the newspaper reports. The town practically hung him!"

"So you didn't really ask him to leave… you merely wished he could get himself out the mess. There's a slight difference but.,.. okay. We can work with that." Frank turned around and smiled though his heart was crushed. Helping people often brought more joy to his heart than the recipients of his kindness. This time, he felt like he was taking on a thankless favor.

"I did tell him to go as far as he could." Conrad dropped his head as he quietly confessed, "He looked at me and I know he knew what I was talking about. Justin's friend, Colin, has some connections and I was hoping...."

Sucking in a deep breath, Frank leaned his back against the door and gazed up the ceiling, counting to ten. He was a patient man and had tolerance for things that most people would fly into a rage at. But this broke the straw on the camel's back.

"You. Take. Me. As. A. Fool. Don't. You?"

"Frank, please… you're always asking me to calm down. I knew I was the wrong the moment I saw him left. So I raced to the bus and train stations but I couldn't find him. His car was confiscated by the police as evidence and he didn't touch my Harley so I have no clue what mode of transport he could be taking. Then I called you and…"

"You freaking lied to me!" Frank hissed, clutching his friend by his t-shirt suddenly and bore his gaze penetratingly into Conrad's brown eyes. "After all I have done for you! I'm not one to broadcast what I did but do you know just how big the favor you asked of me is?"

"Frank… man…"

"The money was for my wedding! My marriage! I earned it risking my damn life and you come here, asking for help and I gave it! This is how you repay me? And how far do you think Justin can run? On your _bus money?No matter where he is, the arms of justice will catch up with him! If he's innocent, you're helping him better by making sure he stays! Learn your honor my damn foot!"_

"Cool it, man!" Conrad shoved Frank and the crash of bones against wooden door must have alerted Nancy outside. Some sense knocked into him then and he knew didn't want a commotion thus he didn't retaliate. It would be hard to explain the situation to Nancy and Conrad didn't know his own strength. His back was hurting from the impact and he feared he might be badly bruised.

Such payment for kindness. Sometimes, it seemed like being the good guy wasn't worth the effort. He didn't mind people not thanking him. He didn't do it for gratitude. But he minded being betrayed and what Conrad did just ripped his trust in people to shreds.

Seething at his friend, Frank gritted his teeth to contain his anger. Conrad let go of him and stumbled backwards, his eyes hooded with apology as he stared at his open palms. "Sorry. I didn't mean to push you."

Frank straightened up and rubbed at his spine, steadying his breathing before he could trust himself to speak next. "I don't think you broke anything."

"I know you've always been cool to me, man. But he's my kid brother. I really don't wish for him to take even a day trip to jail, you know. I've been inside- it's no walk in the clouds. There you have to fend for yourself or be bullied. Justin's so small and so frail… he's easy picking. I have to protect him from these things and at that moment, it just seemed like the only way out." Conrad looked at Frank in the eye and Frank just knew the next question before the bigger guy could spell it out.

"If it was Joe, what will you do? You'll have done the same."

"No, Connie." Frank replied softly, using Conrad's childhood name, the name that he first knew Conrad by. He hoped the name would remind Conrad just how vulnerable he was inside even when he was all muscled up and full of bravado; how wrong he could be. "I will have utmost faith in him. And then I will do my darn best to make sure that he's free from the charges, not make him look even more culpable to the jury. And even if I can't do anything, I'll pray with him every night. I'll watch over him and give him words of encouragements. I will never…" He stabbed a finger at Conrad for emphasis as his eyes pierced right into Conrad's soul, "Never hit him. Never give up on him. Never give up on hope. Because if I do, then I know that he, looking up to me for strength and faith, will give up on himself too."

"I didn't give up on him!"

Frank shook his head, "No, Conrad. By asking him to leave, you're telling him that he's guilty and he doesn't have a chance at all. All our efforts could have been for naught if Joe hadn't found him, do you realize that?"

Conrad collapsed on the bed and rubbed at his face violently before snarling, a man frustrated with himself. "I don't know. All I can think about is getting my brother away from prison. All I can think about is if Justin don't have a chance with the legal system, then I'll give him the chance. That's all I can think about. I didn't give up on him. I just didn't want to see him go to jail. I know I didn't pave a good way for him to escape but if I can, I will. I'm sorry, Frank. That's my truest thoughts and feelings. And I will slog my whole life just to pay back what I owed you. If my brother is safe, I don't mind paying off his debts. I don't mind never seeing him again, only missing him at night when memories of the happier times we had when we were kids come back to haunt me. If Joe was facing execution and you have a boat to bring him somewhere…." Conrad let the question hang, his voice turning scratchy,

"But I truly felt it then. I saw him and I could picture the jury looking at him. They wouldn't give him the chance, Frank. They will look at him but they won't see Justin the way I see him. They don't love him the way I do. They will only see a deadbeat punk and his deadbeat brother. They will see a drug addict. They will see a man high on drugs while scoring with his girlfriend…" 

Letting out a heavy breath, Conrad cradled his head as he stared at the floor. 

"They won't see Justin. Only I see Justin. It's the same way for you when Joe split town. Those not in the know didn't see your brother protecting his girlfriend and baby the best way he knew how. They only pointed fingers and spread rumors. They didn't know Joe the way you did, believed in him the way you do. They don't." Conrad looked up, shaking his head, convinced of his own argument. He pointed at the door and whispered harshly, "She doesn't."

Frank swallowed hard as, with each, heartfelt word from Conrad, the sharp edges of black and white bleed into each other, forming a shapeless, suffusing puddle of gray. How could justice work in tandem with mercy and compassion faultlessly? After all, the system was created by humans, one of the most fickle and confused species of nature. But he also knew what would be right in his eyes- it might not be palatable to everyone's taste but he knew the answer to the incomplete question thrown up by Conrad before Conrad even asked.

Most importantly, he was touched to the very core by Conrad's devotion to Justin. There was nothing he needed to do to infer, interpret or decipher- Conrad was openly honest and clear. He loved his kid brother more than everyone gave him credit for. It was in the mist over his eyes when he talked about Justin- a mist which was more than tears.

"I'm sorry, Conrad. Thanks for sharing. And you're wrong. It's not an unfair question. If Joe was facing execution and I have a boat, I will bring him someplace safe, even though I know when he's gone, they'll come after me. But I only ask that you have faith in me. Justin is not facing execution. We will get the person who spiked Kimberly's drink and we will make sure Justin doesn't meet your father under the wrong circumstances."

Conrad let out a derisive snort, "Hah! There are no right circumstances."

"There is, Conrad. The circumstance is 'forgiveness.' Don't you think you have carried this baggage for far too long?" Frank met Conrad's cynical eyes steadily. Nevertheless, he knew that his words were heard when Conrad turned away again, looking down as he kicked his heels against the ground.

He knew it when he saw a single drop of tear splash onto the wooden floor boards.

***

Nancy jumped away from the bedroom door when she heard the front door opening. Scampering stealthily back to the dining table, she sat down and crossed her legs, pulling the magazine on the side of the table towards her, pretending that she was reading it all along. Well, she didn't need to feign interest in the magazine- it arrested her attention when the first picture she saw was a half-naked girl smiling back at her.

_Oh no. Men's porno magazine. Put it back, put it back._

"Why are you here?" Justin, who stepped into the apartment with Joe, appeared in shock when he saw her. Immediately, after he recovered a split second after, he tried to rush for the entrance only to bump right into Joe who was blocking the way.

"Whoah, calm down tiger. This isn't the first time you see a drop, dead gorgeous lady, right?"

"You're crazy! Do you even know who she is? She's an FBI! She's here to arrest me!"

"Nope, she's helping me and my brother to prevent you from dancing to the jailhouse rock. C'mon, in you go."

"Where's my brother?"  

"I don't know. Maybe he's in the toilet?" Joe grabbed Justin by the collar, kicked the door shut and sat the kid down onto the springy sofa. "There, sit here. Nancy, nice to see you…" Joe drawled and his eyebrows did a little dance when he caught a glimpse of what she was reading. Tensing up, she smiled at him plastically before flipping the page over to an even more prurient center page.  Joe sniggered inaudibly, his blue eyes glinting with glee as she pushed the magazine aside and sat up straight with as much decorum as she could.

 "Hey, Justin. Nice to see you again too."

"You two are friends? Man! This is nuts!" Justin exclaimed, "I'm practically charged!"

"No, Justin. She's cool." Conrad emerged from the bedroom, a little red-eyed. Nancy knew the reason. She had to work out every single cell of self-control to keep herself from tearing earlier while she was eavesdropping. Faking a non-affected smile, she arched a brow, "So, Conrad. Trust me now?"

"For now, yah." Conrad glowered at her and opened his mouth as if to say something else when he clamped it shut. 

"Thank you for not threatening me." Nancy guessed the nature of his unspoken sentence and her intuition was rewarded when he grunted as he approached his brother.

"Justin…"

"Hi, bro. I'm back." Justin's eyes darted at the private detectives and one Federal agent in the house before announcing a little too loudly, "I'm sorry I ran away! I know you asked me not to but I still did! You told me to stay but I…"

"Stand up, Justin."

"Conrad… I swear! I really didn't… I mean…" Justin was positively fretful. Nancy remembered Frank's mention of Conrad's violent ways against Justin when he hadn't a clue how to discipline the errant kid. "I…"

"Just stand up." 

Nancy stood up then and Frank, standing by the bedroom's entrance, shook his head at her and Joe who was hovering behind Conrad with readied hands. She was still worried, however, noticing Joe's complete trust in Frank, she felt more comfortable taking the leap of faith. Joe had relaxed his hands and walked away, giving the Daye brothers space.

Justin stood up hesitantly, backing into the sofa when Conrad came near. He turned his cheek, as if expecting a punch to land on his face. Though Nancy couldn't see from the back, she could imagine Justin's shock when his brother simply pulled him into a fierce embrace for he stiffened for a moment before returning the affection.

"Glad you're home, kid. Help the detectives out, will you?" Conrad pulled away and looked down into his shorter brother's eyes earnestly, "Can you tell them as much as you know? Don't bother protecting anyone or anything. Just tell the truth. The innocent won't come to any harm and those in the wrong will get what they deserve, nothing more, nothing less."

"Bro, I already told Joe what I knew. I'm sorry, man. Look…" Justin turned around; addressing all of them. "Conrad didn't give me the money to escape or helped me in anyway, if that's anyone is thinking. I really just wanted to go down to Port City to pay my respects to Kimberly. It's only right that I do. If she's looking down from Heaven, she will want me to be there. I know it here." He pressed a palm to his chest as his eyes welled up again with the fresh cuts of the dolor death brought, "Which was why I had to go. I wanted to come back but I don't know. I bought a drink at in a convenience store, gave the cashier my only note and left the change behind and no one wanted to give me a lift..."

"We know." Frank said smilingly. "I'm just glad you're back."

"You're just glad your money's back." Justin muttered dryly and Conrad, out of habit, smacked the back of his brother's head.

"He's helping us, you cr… . Say…"

"Sorry, Frank." Justin mumbled, interjecting Conrad's _gentle promptings. "And thank you."_

***

Author's Note

Hey guys, thanks for the reviews. I am currently proof-reading and emending chapters after some disastrous overlooking of grammar and typos. Now, to answer one specified question before I go on.

I'm a Hardy Boys' fan, more so than Nancy Drew. However, I feel that the Supermysteries were so inadequate in helping us comprehend the dynamics between Frank and Nancy. I'm am absolutely sure that the two of them would have gave in to temptations long ago. Being in the position of loving one man and liking another intensely long ago with my first boyfriend, I can understand how Nancy felt and will like to explore this.

That said, Nancy remains a peripheral character as compared to the Boys. In Supermysteries again, the main characters were Nancy and Frank. Joe was just there for mind's eye candy purposes or for getting into trouble to create some action for Frank and Nancy to jump into. This isn't a supermystery. This is the Hardy Boys with Nancy visiting… and that's all she does. She does get involve in the case but I don't feel qualified to build up her character more than her relationship with Frank Hardy because I have read only 4 Nancy Drew case files as compared to almost of Hardy Boys' and the Supermysteries.

Hope that clears it up. J

Ocean 


	10. 10

Chapter 10

Psychedelic Hollow

_"Colin gave me the Ecstasy. I told Joe."_

_"Did he just give them to you, or did you ask?" Frank probed._

_Justin visibly tensed up as his eyes darted from Conrad then back again to Frank. "I can't remember the… the… specifics."_

_"Did he say anything else after he gave you the pills?"_

_"Why?" Justin sat up straighter, defensiveness lining his words. "What difference does it make?"_

_"Justin, just spill it out." Conrad snapped, "You want to be free from this, right?"_

_Justin looked at the three detectives dubiously before hunching over, sulking at the floor, "I asked Colin and he gave them to me, telling me to have fun at the party with Kimberly. Then he disappeared."_

_"You asked Colin for the pills?" __Nancy__ asked again for veracity. Justin glared at her and folded his arms sullenly._

_"Yes! Now can you guys just leave me alone, damn it!"_

"Penny for your thoughts?" Nancy waved a hand in front of him and he jumped in his seat, shaken off-tracked by his recollection. The three of them had gathered back in Frank's living room after all the questioning. Outwardly, it had seemed like a cozy, late afternoon tea owing to the impromptu offering of snacks which Joe bought on their way back from Port City and the never ceasing supply of soda in Conrad's flat. 

And the façade was good. Justin was unperturbed for most part and extremely forthcoming until they hit the sensitive questions- and most of those had something to do with Colin.

"I'm just wondering why my question on Colin's offer of Ecstasy to Justin would get him all testy."

"He has something to hide? I noticed it too." Nancy concurred, sipping some water, "But didn't he say that he was the one who asked for it?"

"Only until I double-checked with him. All the time, when the offering was mentioned, he always said Colin gave them to him,  not he took them from Colin."

"Maybe it was a just a figure of speech…" Joe opined, munching on a celery stick with some low fat cheese spread on it, "Justin's grammar not that great."

"It's not a matter of grammar. It's a matter of how Justin perceived it to be, until I _asked_. He realized, from my tone, that it could mean something, and that led to him to automatically protect his best friend, even though he didn't know what I could be driving at."

"And the fact that he said after he asked Colin for the pills, Colin told him to have fun at the party with Kimberly is rather disturbing. What if the truth should is Colin gave them to him and told him to have fun at the party with Kimberly?'" Nancy chewed on her pen tip, "Then the angle will have skewed completely. Colin is Justin's best friend and they are at the age where somehow, scoring with girls seemed to be extremely important. He must have known about how Kimberly always told Justin that she wanted to wait until she was married and probably decided to help his friend out a little. Some kids don't know where to draw the line- they think this is fun, cool and completely all right when it is not. If Kimberly didn't die, she would have been raped and Justin would have becoming the unwitting assailant. Either way, lives are ruined. Whoever did something like this can't see past their selfishness and have no sense of respect for themselves or others." 

She dropped her pen down on the table and stuck a tongue in her cheek, disgust hooding her summer's eyes, "Infantile."

Joe arched a brow, staring at Nancy questioningly, "I am disgusted with it as well but you seem to have a personal vendetta."

"Rather. One of my course mates was date raped. She wasn't drugged but it didn't matter. It's the same thing- rape." Her incensed eyes flashed lethally, "The guy was her boyfriend of two-years who didn't know that 'No' means _'No'."_

"Maybe he thought she was playing around… sometimes when someone says 'No,' followed peals of giggles or actions that say otherwise, it's rather hard to judge." Joe shrugged, his brows furrowing with bafflement as if he was re-living an incident similar to that he had just recounted. Frank wanted to call a truce, knowing that Joe had inadvertently stepped on land mines. However, before he could even say or do anything, Nancy glared at Joe and snapped irritably, slamming her hands on Frank's modern dining table.

"No just means, No! I don't know why you guys just can't get it! It's only a two letter word, hardly a Gordian Knot! I mean, some of us just want to kiss and cuddle, not have sex. That's why we said 'no.' Doesn't mean after we say 'No' to sex and then cuddle means we are _actually receptive to the idea of intercourse, like what you guys like to think!"_

"I didn't mean to start an argument. Okay, I know. 'No' is 'no'. I'm one of those guys that always respect a lady when it comes to this. Don't jump on me like I raped somebody!" Joe was working into a rage as well, getting all heated up from this argument. Walking away from a fight wasn't Joe's style, no matter who was his sudden adversary. "And you have to admit that some girls should really watch the way they dress and act! If they are not looking for _it, don't act like they are!"_

"So you're saying it's our fault?"

"No! I'm not giving excuses to the trespassers! I just…" Joe threw his hands up in the air, "Forget it. But you know something? When Hallie hit puberty, I will never let her wear a skirt that barely covers her butt. I'll never let her wear anything that exposes her cleavage. I will never let her attend rave parties and if I can't stop her short of chaining her to her room, then I'll do my best to drum the idea of safety and precaution in her head. When she goes to pubs, I'll make sure she knows better than to get drunk. And I sure won't allow her to be in the same room as another guy _alone_. It's the menace of close proximity to such temptations and dangers that I'm talking about, not passing the buck! And as a guy, I'm telling you straight off that we do infer from your body language and dressing. And like verbal communication, it's easy to misunderstand especially when such sexual nuances are so heavily layered on! Like it or not, everyone is responsible for their own safety! Let me present you with an analogy so you can _understand…" Drawling the last word sarcastically, Joe's narrowed eyes pierced right into Nancy's burning orbs of blue flames which were challenging and intimidating him simultaneously to no avail._

"You can't walk in dark alleyways wearing a hair band for a skirt as you swing your butt to-and-fro and expect to not attract unwanted attention. There will always be bad people around with evil intentions. You just have to do your best to avoid their interest in you since you can't stop them from existing."

"You are a chauvinist!" Nancy snarled, stabbing a firm finger in the air at Joe, "Putting the blame on the victim!"

Joe simmered, his lips vanished in a thin, tight line, "No, you're dead wrong and myopic. I'm not putting the blame on the victim! I'm a realist!"

"Cut it out. You both have your point. No to sex, means No to sex, be it a girl or a guy who utters it, all right?" Frank stood up, stretching his hands out with palms upright. Once again, he had to be the peacemaker only this time, he was a little surprised that Nancy couldn't keep her cool. "Just like 'No' to drugs, to alcohol abuse, violence, etc. etc. Can we get back onto the case now? I need to get married on time! Do I have to ground the both of you?"

"You can't. You ground us and you work on this case alone- which means you won't get married on time." Joe muttered, ripping half the celery with his teeth and chewing furiously. Nancy downed her glass of water as if she was trying to extinguish the flames burning in her stomach.

"Good. Now, can we decide on our next course of action?"

"Isn't it obvious? Find Colin and get the truth out from him." Nancy remarked in annoyance, "And I suggest we go now but I'm not going to sit in the same car as him."

"Fine! Suit yourself! You know that I do make sense!" Joe stood up abruptly, causing his chair to topple onto the floor with a series of resounding clangs that caused Frank to grimace and fear for the pristine condition of his designer's tiles.

"Where are you going? Let's plan our actions…"

"Argh!" Joe stormed towards the bathroom, gesticulating wildly with his hands, "You can do all the planning you want! I'm going to take a crap!"

***

Frank didn't like having to deal with Marcie Brown again but it seemed like they had no choice, given that the importance of Colin's angle into the case was enormously upped by the Justin's divulgence. The atmosphere of the house hadn't changed- neither had Marcie's deposition towards them. Frank wasn't complaining; he wasn't expecting a miracle. However, he was rather frustrated that even when they deliberately emphasized that they _needed_ to talk to Colin _alone_, the house help still brought them to Marcie.

This time round, it was Marcie the iron lady and only Marcie. Colin was nowhere to be seen. 

"It's rather pointless for the both of you to come. Colin doesn't know your client and he's a decent boy. Why would he be hanging around with the likes of drug addicts?" Marcie set down her cup, a condescending smile dancing on the edges of her lips. Frank spotted her gaffe immediately but it was Nancy who highlighted it.

"Mrs. Brown, we have never mentioned that Justin was a drug addict."

Marcie shot Nancy a look that was almost murderous. Expecting an acerbic tongue-lash, Frank was taken aback when she laughed instead, as if amused by what had just transpired, "Well, I see I have a couple of intelligent guests. I'm so sorry. Just hang on…" 

"Marcie, actually, we just want to speak to Colin." Frank prompted her gently, thinking that the domineering matriarch might have lost it, "Get some questions answered and we'll leave."

Marcie snapped a finger at one of her uniformed maids waiting at one side and turned to Frank, "I said hang on, sonny. Anne, please get my check book."

"Marcie…" Frank decided to warn her before the situation became more complicated, "If you're going to offer what I think you are, I'll advise you to think twice."

"Oh, don't be such a righteous man, Mr. Hardy. And please, call me Mrs. Brown. Everyone has a price, name yours."

"I'm sorry if you still don't catch our drift, Mrs. Brown. But I can easily charge you for attempting to bribe an officer of the law." Nancy cautioned, steel hardened her tone and gaze. Marcie narrowed her eyes shrewdly as her servant, Anne, halted in her steps, awaiting her next order.

"Anne, leave us. Colin is out but I'll see if I can help with anything. What are your questions?" Marcie crossed her legs which were initially slanted to one side. Frank wondered if Marcie dressed like an accomplished business woman all the time- even in her own home. Appearances obviously mattered enormously to Marcie and Nancy's cautioning was working very well. Marcie Brown wouldn't be caught dead charged with a crime that could render her reputation to moldy rags.

"May we know where's Colin?" Frank asked. Marcie leaned to the side of her velvet armchair, smiling tediously.

"From my conversations with the both of you, I can tell that you two are very observant. Surely you can tell that Colin and I have a rather superficial relationship? He's not easily… controlled…" Marcie knitted her brows, speaking as if Colin was a dog she failed in toilet training. Frank was inwardly appalled by her tone.  "Not obedient like his siblings. But he's a good boy and I'm very certain that he wouldn't have done whatever the both of you think he did. Having said this, I hope you understand that I do not know where Colin is. If he ever comes back, I'll let him know the both of you called though I probably wouldn't be here for a while."

"Wait, Marcie, can we see his room?" Nancy ventured and Marcie let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"He doesn't stay here. If he does sleep here, it's on the couch. You were lucky the first time. He came back for money when you called on me."

"Did you give it to him?" Nancy probed- steely concern in her voice. Marcie arched a brow, mildly bemused. 

"Why would you need the knowledge for?"

"Because if you did, then you're supporting his drug habits."

"Colin doesn't take drugs, Miss Drew. I may not know my son very well but I trust he's sensible."

Nancy smiled mirthlessly, "We have sources that tells us otherwise."

"Justin? The kid who led my son astray? Well, Miss Drew, get your sources right first. How can you believe a seasoned drug abuser?"

"Through thorough investigations, of course," Frank half-lied. Marcie stiffened. Next, her chastising gaze swept across them and Frank suddenly felt rather intimidated, like he was in his principal's office.

"Are the both of you parents?" Marcie asked and smiled knowingly when the both of them shook their heads. 

"Then do not lecture me on what I should or should not do. Colin's my son and I'm his mother. If I want to give him money so he doesn't starve or be killed by his debtors, then that's my business. If I throw him to the wolves…" Her smile vanished and her mien grew somber and yet, inscrutable.

Frank shuddered before she even complete her sentence, subconsciously comparing her with Laura and thanking God for his blessing.

"That's my business too." 

Smirking as though enjoying their aghast, Marcie picked up her cup of tea and took an appreciative whiff, "Not that I will, of course. But if he is insistent on emulating his malingerer father, tinkering with cars, motorbikes and other icky pursuits he calls a life worth living, there's nothing I can do."

"Marcie, is Colin's dad in Bayport? Maybe he's with him?" Frank hazard a guess but Marcie shook her head, setting her cup of tea down.

"I don't know. Really. I don't care. I no longer have anything to do with the _idler_…" She scrunched her face at her own silent thoughts, "But he may still be in Bayport. Or maybe he's dead."

"What's his name?" Nancy asked, her pen readied on her notepad. Marcie threw her a deadpanned look.

"I forgot."

"Marcie, please… just a name."

Her dispassionate face crumbled for a fleeting moment, "His name is Harold Wain. Don't tell me anything you find out about him."

"We won't, Marcie." Frank promised, managing a genuine smile, "And thank you."


	11. ANNOUCNING: gOInG fOR a hOlIdAY!

I'm off to Australia and won't be back until after Christmas.

Well, hope you guys still give Psychedelic a chance when I come back. Sorry for the hiatus.

Merry Christmas and God Bless!

Ocean


	12. 11

Psychedelic Hollow Chapter 11

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Warehouse No. 13 was a larger premise and, instead of being situated in rows like most other warehouses, it was only adjacent to warehouse no. 14. Kevin McCain, a pudgy businessman, had bought both the warehouses as some form of ill investment. Bayport was a bustling town with a port but that was it- the industrial park was a little too huge and with supply exceeding demand, it was under-utilized. However, he found that selling them would earn him a greater loss and since he had already paid in full, he kept them around but completely neglected their existence.

Joe and Con Riley had exchanged concurring glances when they noticed the scratches surrounding the keyholes of the roll-up metal doors. Work of amateurs though the locks were crude and simplistic enough that basic skills in lock-picking were sufficient to overcome the weak barrier they posed to unlawful entry.

"Look all you want… I swear I don't know a thing, really. They're like the worst purchases I ever made and I kinda hate even visiting them. I don't have to be reminded of the money I wasted." McCain's soprano voice was much displaced with his large form. His animated deportment had Joe, who was standing rather close to him, swiftly ducking right and left to avoid being hit by his gesticulating hands. Stepping into the staleness of the warehouse No. 13, Joe glanced around, scrunching his eyes to ameliorate his sight. Con Riley flicked on all the switches but only two fluorescent lights were working, and weakly so. The police officer arched a brow at McCain who protested wildly with his swinging hands immediately.

"I told you! I don't come here much! Changing the lights will only sink more money into this dump."

The large space was barren with only two long tables perpendicularly placed against one of the walls. Joe swiped the window panes, his lips growing thin at the dust gathered on his fingertip. Veiled with a heavy dusting of cobwebs and grime, Joe was rather unsure now if the windows were tinted or merely extremely dirty. Anyway, the last burst of dusk light wouldn't be able to find its way inside if the doors had been closed. Even then, the natural, waning light was of not much help.

Nonetheless, the concrete floor looked pretty clean. Maybe the party organizers had taken pains to clear it of _evidence. Yet, Joe thought he might find something. Losing confidence in the meager lights, he took out his penlight, shining it at corners where light was completely devoured by dust and an aura of darkness. Con Riley's blowtorch was far more effective though. After searching the nooks and crannies as well as under the two tables, they couldn't find anything- not powdery substance, which could be crushed pills, foils, needles, straws and alike. Maybe the organizers were thorough. The metal door at the far end confirmed Justin's statements about there being two sides. No. 13 was big but still only adequate for a few tables, chairs, a standard dance floor and deejay's equipment. Fresh imprints of plugs on the fixed sockets proved that someone had indeed utilized the premise recently._

McCain unlocked the metal door and they stepped into the adjacent warehouse where two other officers were already scouring the place which was in a better condition with three lights working. From the flashlights of their cameras, Joe knew they had found proofs implicating the place as a spot used for vice.

One officer, a handsome African-American with neatly cropped bleached hair, sensed their presence and approached Con Riley with a few paper evidence bags in his right hand. He nodded at Joe before reporting his findings, his mien serious and his tone officious. Joe guessed, from his youthful features and distance with Con who was just about the friendliest officer around, that he was perhaps new to the force.

"We found syringes, aluminum foils and some straws, sir."

"Let's dispense with the formal note, shall we, Lenny?" Con draped an arm across Lenny's broad shoulders and ventured further into the warehouse. Joe followed behind, keenly surveying the place. "What else have we found?"

"A couple of pills, Con… not the whole thing… remnants. Maybe those club drugs…" The other officer, the same curly haired guy who had helped with the call tracer in the Hardy's home when Hallie's kidnapper had decided to make contact in the earlier case, stood up, shaking his head. Instinctively, Joe jumped back a step, remembering the bad case of dandruff the man had. 

"But we can't be sure unless tests are done. Think we should seal this place up."

"I swear, officers! I don't know a thing. Some damn kids must have broken into this place…" McCain gazed at Con Riley pleadingly, "You aren't going to take this place away from me, right? I mean, yah, I hate coming here but still, I paid for them!"

"We're just going to seal it up for further investigations temporarily, Mr. McCain. Meanwhile, I hope you can assist us with some questions." Con Riley smiled genially at the man, "Care for a trip down to the station?"

The variety of curses spewed by McCain next would have all the dead lying in Bayport cemeteries tossing and turning from their eternal rest.

***

"Interesting lady…" Nancy mused wryly as she stepped into the car, "I wonder how you managed to remain so unruffled."

"You did fine too, Nan." Frank buckled up, adjusting his rearview mirror before he started the engine, "Takes a lot of practice. She isn't the worst I've seen."

"Who's the worst?"

A dark veil eclipsed the glow on his face. He grew silent as he shifted the gear to 'Drive', maneuvering the purring luxury car out of the driveway smoothly. Nancy bristled in her seat, clasping her hands together, chiding herself inwardly for knowing better than to ask. Before Joe came back, Frank had chased after someone who was a monster beyond doubt- _alone. Then, he had to pit his wits against the craftiness of _two_ serial child killers while balancing the emotional well-being of his brother when Hallie vanished. In a more recent email, Frank spoke, very succinctly, of how he wished Joe's homecoming could have been different. The guilt that came with taking too much self-imposed responsibility for Joe's life and all the bullet holes riddled into it was evident throughout the message but she would keep her opinions to herself for now. Frank had to learn to let go._

Lost in her anxiousness at having caused him hurt in any way, she didn't notice that Frank had taken a different turn until she saw that they were on a track that led further up the cliff rather than back down into old little Bayport. She sat up straighter and gazed out of the window intently, absorbing in every sight along the way. Up in the sky, hues of pink, purple and blue suffused into remarkably blended streaks. Bathing in dusk's light, the surroundings scintillated from orange rays bouncing off smooth green leaves and grass. Harsh edges softened with the romantic touch of an artist's loving hands. 

And when they approached the cliff's top, a gorgeous picture emerged. From the distance, the colorful sky merged seamlessly with the iridescent Atlantic which was scattered with unattainable jewels. Stationary water crafts dotted the horizon and she felt like even time had to stop to admire the sight. 

"Wow…" She exclaimed, forgetting for a moment about the tenseness just a couple of minutes ago, "Beautiful…"

"Yup, thought I'll show you a part of Bayport which will never make it into those travelogues. Angela's Cliff is something, not just that protrusion at mid-point where you will find those three villas side by side. We can steal some time from the case. C'mon," He pulled his car to a stop and nodded towards the outside, "Step out and smell the fresh air."

She couldn't tell from his tone if he was feigning casualness. Yet, she knew she wasn't mistaken about the gloom emphasizing his five o'clock shadow from earlier. Shaking the thought away, she decided that she would enjoy the scenery- after all, she was bushed from all that transpired and her exhaustion didn't come from the case alone. 

Exiting the car, she was instantly welcomed with a blast of moderately humid air imbued with the saltiness of the sea. Frank walked over to her side and draped an arm across her shoulders. She felt safe always when embraced in his strength- friend, lover, or a forgone soul mate, he would always be the same to her- a person she couldn't imagine not having in her life.

"See that? The rocky outcrop right at the tip?"

"Yup… hey… it… hmm," Nancy scrunched her eyes against the last burst of light before the sun called it a day in Bayport, "Looks like a dog…"

"Want to hear a story?"

She threw him an amused glance before shrugging, noting the glint in his eyes. He hawked once before he began- a faraway look in his enigmatic dark brown eyes.

"Once, long before Bayport was named, there was a man and his dog- a great Dane. They only had each other and lived happily on this cliff. They would both sit on the edge and the man would talk about life, philosophies and most of all, the wonders yet to be discovered. One day, gazing out at the ocean, he told the Great Dane that he wanted to be a sailor. He wanted to go explore the many islands beyond their shore and the Great Dane let its master go with tears in its eyes. It would, with each of its master's trip, sit upright by the cliff's edge and wagged its tail, gazing out onto the Atlantic, awaiting its master's return.

Sometimes, the master would be gone for weeks… months… but always he would return to his beloved Great Dane. The Great Dane too never faltered in its devotion to its master. Physically tired but mentally rejuvenated from his expeditions, the master finally returned home for good with more stories to tell the Great Dane. Once again, they were together and the master would smoke his pipe as he gestured out to the open sea and regaled the Great Dane with stories from islands faraway.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and months into years. Time bled the Great Dane's fur into an ancient hue of gray just like what it did to its master's beard and hair. The master ran out of stories and repeated many that the Great Dane had already heard quite a few times before. But the Great Dane didn't mind. It would wag its tail vigorously as its ears point excitedly upwards as if it was hearing those stories for the very first time. But the master could no longer muster up the same enthusiasm. He missed the freedom of the ocean and the scent of adventure. One day, in the middle of one amazing tale, he stopped and sighed. The Great Dane cocked its head, knowing something was wrong.

The master stroked the Great Dane's back and gazed into its eyes, 'I have to go to this island where no one ever stepped foot on before. The seas are choppy and the journey perilous. But I have to go. I have to seek that one treasure which eluded everyone. When I come back, you'll hear the most awesome story ever told.'

The Great Dane wanted to tell its master that its love and devotion towards him was more than just the stories the master could tell. But it also knew the master had to do what he had to do. Thus, on the day the master set sail, it sat upright by the tip of the cliff and kept sentinel.

Villagers who saw the Great Dane could only feel sorry for it as news had arrived on the shores that the master had perished in his foolhardy journey. The Great Dane didn't know and never gave up hope. It just kept watching and waiting until one day, when one of the villagers climbed up the cliff to bring it food and water, he saw that the Great Dane had turned into rock, forever keeping watch until it was reunited with its master when the sea clamoring below finally conquered the majestic cliff.

And thus, the cliff was named after the loyal Great Dane. Angela was its name. So this cliff became known as, 'Angela's Cliff.'"

Nancy stole a glimpse at Frank as he told the story and saw the glisten in his eyes. Maybe he wasn't aware of it but he had held her tighter in the middle of his storytelling. She didn't want to alert him to the boundary that he had crossed- selfishly, she wanted to hold him back and kiss him.

"End of story." He breathed out heavily and retracted his hand from her shoulders, stretching himself to release the stiffness in his joints, "I always feel a little sad when I come up here. But the sight brings me some peace."

"Why the sudden passion?" She asked, rather disappointed that he wasn't holding her anymore. "I never knew you're a story person."

"Oh, I am. Stories are lies from beginning to end but there's always some glimmer of truth in them. They can help us understand things that confuse us just as they can baffle us with a barrage of falsehoods. The rock was not originally a dog of course; just a freak coincidence under nature's sculpting hands. The rock will be nothing without the story but the story will still be something without the rock."

"Now, you are puzzling me…" Nancy arched a brow, bemused, "As if the riddles and potholes of a case isn't enough, I have to unravel the mysteries behind Frank Hardy's words."

He let out a soft laugh, throwing her sheepish look, "Nay, you don't need to. Like Joe always say, I wax lyrics just to sound smart. But I do love this story. Like the master, there are some things that I just have to do though I'm not as dumb. I won't risk my life on some mindless, needless and dangerous task. But sometimes, as you know very well, our cases can get a little life-threatening. I just hope that there'll always be someone at home who understands; who don't ask too many questions. Someone there with a cup of warm, chamomile tea for me every night."

"I'm happy for you…" Nancy patted his shoulder and mustered up a smile, "You have found that someone."

"I guessed. She's really special." Frank smiled at her but, unlike a man at peace, there was the inexplicable poignant shine in his eyes. Despite what she had promised Joe, she felt that she would be doing herself an injustice if she didn't bring up their unresolved past. After all, love was selfish, wasn't it?

Yet, before she could begin, her phone rang. It was Con Riley, asking her if she wanted to come down to the station to question the owner of the warehouses where they found evidence of a rave party infiltrated by drugs.

The case came first. And the generous side of her schizophrenic conscience was appeased by her silence on the subject which would soon be verboten anyway.

***

The official workplace of Hardy Investigations was a small, cluttered little rat nest tucked away in the corner of the third storey of Gladiator's Tower. The building's name was oxymoronic since the building was a stout five-storey affair, hardly a tower. Despite its almost grandiose moniker, the exterior was drab and gray with streaks of brown, unidentified stains running down its walls, like the rusted armor of a fallen knight. Joe laughed hysterically, in self-pity of course, when Frank brought him there and designated the pantry table as his workspace. According to his brother, Fenton had picked the spot years ago because, just like little scheming rodents, a lot of law firms made their home inside the gloomy hole and there was bound to be businesses lying in such close proximity with them. Besides, it was only one junction away from the police station. Laura had insisted Fenton shift his office out of the house for the sake of emotional and psychological well-being. She wanted a home to be purely, a home. However, Fenton still _brought_ back work into his massive study to his wife's chagrin. Old habits died hard and the office was left to degenerate into nothing more than a glorified storeroom.

_"You allowed Dad to rent this place?"_

_"Yah, it's cheap and it's a good location. Close to my apartment. But Dad hardly comes here because, to him, his study is still his office, so the president's office is all mine."_

_"President?"_

_"CEO, chairman, president… whatever. But, you, kiddo, have to earn your stripes. You can call me boss during working hours. And that's really the table we kind of reserved for you but then, mom and Aunt Gertrude flooded us with so much snacks that we had no choice but to convert it temporarily into a pantry space."_

_"Somebody pinch me…" Joe remarked wryly, "It's like a dream come true…"_

_"Now that we are pretty 'caseless', you have a new task- I've decided to computerize all the records.. turn this place into a real office."_

_"But don't you work from your own apartment too?"_

_"I needed to work from my study for a while…" Frank admitted, "I can't work in a dumpster and that's what too many files, too little time and even fewer cabinets turned this place into."_

_"We can hire a secretary to take charge of such things like cleanliness. Someone pretty, leggy, long flowing hair, tiny waist… you know…"_

_Frank threw him a dirty look, shaking his head, "I tried. No one is suitable, as in the sense of mental capabilities. Now that I have you to bully, I think we can clean up this place in no time."_

The only accomplishment of their computerization project was that Phil finally had the custom software's bugs smoothed out. Emails shot to-and-fro between Bayport and Silicon Valley filled with unspeakable language and geek-talk had their old friend throwing his hands up in surrender owing to Frank's eloquence. Farting up the law lingoes he heard along the corridors to scare Phil, Frank finally had the software genius working for the money paid out to him. The friendship was untarnished though- Phil and Frank often insulted each other while working together in such nerdy projects- it was like part of their culture and Phil often took pot shots at Frank, reminding Frank who was on his way to becoming the next Bill Gates.

_Joe peered over Frank's shoulder at the computer screen as Frank furiously typed away, "Hey, Frank… you don't want to make Phil too… whoah…ah, where did you learn those vocabulary?"_

_"From dad when we're young and impressionable. Hah! This email should do it! Bill Gates my foot! I'll investigate all his illicit activities and have him begging for mercy! With my brilliant detective skills, any evil doers will have to bow down to me! MUAHAHAHAHA!" Frank threw back his head and laughed diabolically, spinning in his swivel chair as he punched the air vehemently, "And that includes buggy Phil Cohen!" _

_Joe rolled his eyes, pouring himself a glass of water, "You two are arrested adolescents. High school was bad enough and it seemed like the both you have degenerated since then. You make me feel like the more grown-up Hardy Boy for once."_

Because Con Riley refused to let Joe listen in on the questioning, he thought it would be useless if he stayed at the police station. Besides, he could already guess what happened to the poor, unlucky owner. Sometimes, even garbage must be looked after.

Loosened the screw securing the seat of his chair to its wheels so he could double it up as a rocking chair, Joe was happily reading an automobile magazine while bobbing up and down when the door swung opened. Frank sauntered in, dumping a paper bag on a small table nearby which was the latest addition to the office since they had to shift the pantry somewhere else after Joe rightfully claimed the space.

"One day, Joe Hardy, the screw is going to come off and you're going to topple over like Humpty Dumpty."

"Dumpity, dump, dump…" Joe muttered, drooling over the newest convertible that would hit the market in two months time, "How's the interview with Colin Brown?" He swiveled his chair so he would face the door, pursing his lips when he saw only Frank.

"Nan's still mad at me? That's why she won't come?"

"No, she's at the police station, gathering information from Con. I thought you'll know, since you were with Con." Frank glanced through the office's mails one after another before placing them onto Joe's table.

"Come into my office. It's too messy outside…" Frank bent over and picked up some pages of comics Joe printed out from the internet from the floor. Scowling at him, Frank tidied the loose sheets into a neat pile and laid them in Joe's inbox. Joe grinned, ducking behind the magazine when Frank pretended to seethe.

"Sorry, boss." Joe whimpered, "Your lowly servant will never do it again!"

"Never do what again?"

"Treat the floor as one big shelf."

Frank snatched the magazine away from his hands and he hunched slightly as Frank smacked him lightly on the top of his head, "Some things never changed. Just don't turn the office into your room, all right?"

"Right! Don't worry! Elle trained me very well to be neat and organized!" Joe stood up, following behind his brother into 'Boss Office'. Frank shook his head in resignation and Joe threw his brother a sweet from the crystal bowl on top of a cabinet inside the smaller, neater space when Frank was seated down in his black, leather armchair. It landed on a pile of paper on the desk with a soft _thud._

"Oh, come on. Eat a sweet and smile sweetly?" 

Frank picked up the goody from the table and clucked his tongue, "Toffee. To stick my teeth together right?"

"Right! So you can't nag at me!"

"Idiot." Frank groused in jest and booted up his computer. Joe slumped down on the chair opposite him and started rocking away. Just like his chair outside, he had gently administered to this one as well and unsuspecting clients sometimes get a rude shock when they leaned back against the chair. Actually, so far since his return to Bayport, only one client called their office- a domineering woman who demanded that Frank obtain evidence of her husband committing adultery in two days. Frank had no patience for such overbearing clients and was about to show her out the door when she landed on her posterior, losing her balance upon making acquaintance with the wobbly seat.

Frank had found the scene hilarious but chided Joe nonetheless, saying that if she had been hurt or decided to sue, it wouldn't be a joke. Thus, Joe promised that when clients call, he would quickly tighten the screw to prevent similar incidents from happening. 

"Colin wasn't at home… in fact, we found out from his mother that he doesn't even live there. But there's probability that he would be with his father, Howard Wain…" Frank typed lightly on his keyboard and smiled crookedly, "His address is listed in Bayport's directory. Hopefully the information is not outdated. When we first met Colin, he had grease stains all over his t-shirt. Hmm… looks like Howard Wain owns a car workshop too, Wain's CarWorks. High chance we will find Colin there."

"Why didn't Justin tell us earlier? He must have known."

Frank tightened his lips, playing with the wrapper of the uneaten toffee, "We had this conversation in the afternoon, didn't we? Justin is protecting Colin."

Joe turned grim, remembering the argument he had with Nancy and not liking having to sleep tonight without patching up with a friend, "Stupidity then. Are you printing out the directions to Wain's place?"

"Yes. You know, if you have met Marcie Brown, you'll be kneeling down and giving thanks to God for mom." Frank's lips curled slightly as if he tasted something bitter. Joe shrugged, knocking the hanging pendulums against one another on Frank's table, hypnotized by their rhythmic swings.

"Oh, I thank God for mom everyday." He muttered, abruptly brought back from the somnolence realm when Frank brought the swinging of the pendulums to a halt by grabbing their attached strings in one tight bunch. He blushed, noticing his brother's amused look, "Hey, I have to pray with Hallie every night."

"Hmm, next time, I'll swing a pendulum in front of you so you'll always be so forthcoming with answers." Frank mused, releasing the hanging pendulums, causing them to bounce off each other chaotically before settling, very quickly, in that familiar rhythm and pattern.

"Nothing wrong with praying, Joe. It's good, actually. I'm kinda hoping you'll join me for Church tomorrow. With the case though, I'll have to skip cell group."

"Nay, Church isn't really for me… let's not talk about my lapse in faith, all right? Suffice that I do believe in God and still have faith in goodness, not everyone has the same privilege…" Joe dismissed the topic. Frank was the more religious brother while Joe was an occasional churchgoer. But he made sure that Hallie attended Sunday Classes and Church with the family while he slept away on his bed at home. 

"Everyone has the privilege; it's a question of accepting it." Frank commented- the man of faith in him wouldn't let the matter rest. Joe could understand and thus, smiled as he thought about tomorrow and wishing he had some time from the case to spend with Hallie. "All right, forget it for now. How are your investigations with Con Riley?"

"Now that Nancy's in the station with him, I think she will have more information than me. Chief Collig may come down on him for being too friendly with us. I'm just glad he let me tag along with the search. We found evidence in the warehouses that ties in with what Justin told us. McCain, the owner, had abandoned the warehouses, casting them aside as bad investments while hoping the property prices will rise so he could sell them off soon. If you ask me, it seems like the organizers knew about his predicament so they are assured that their activities would be safe. But they will have to look elsewhere since the police sealed up the warehouses. Right now, Con's men are running fingerprints and examining evidence found in the premises to see if any more suspects come up though I doubt it."

"Why?" Frank asked, arching a brow, "Maybe the system may find matches for the prints. You didn't manage to sneak any back so I can run them with AFIS?"

"Nope, Con may be friendly but he watched me closely. Anyway, I am thinking that those prints, if they are matched, will only let us to the users- not the organizers with cash-fat wallets. I don't know… not going to lay too much hope on it. But that's Nancy's angle right? We just have to clear Justin."

"You got a point but let's keep our eyes open. Nancy may need our help. To sidetrack, I don't she's angry. She didn't even mention your argument with her."

Joe shrugged, reaching back into the crystal bowl for a candy before dropping it back, "Hey, I stir up their passions like no one can. It's such a silly spat. But I believe in what I said."

"I'm glad you know it's a silly spat." Frank smiled and popped the toffee in his mouth, "Sweet."

"Now, bro, since I gave you a sweet…" Joe leaned across the table, smiling cheekily, "Will you buy me dinner before we check out Howard Wain? Mom cooks real horrible stuff for me these days… I'm not sure if they are even food."

"Joe… you know mom's only thinking for your health…"

"Yup… but I'm not delicate china, you know? I know how to eat in moderation… pretty please?" 

Frank guffawed, "Okay, prepare your stomach. We're going to have Italian."

Joe whooped and punched the air triumphantly, violently rocking the chair.

_Real food! He rubbed his hands in glee as Frank shook his head, checking his wallet for the restaurant's card so he could call and ask about availability of tables._

_Finally!_


	13. 12

Chapter 12

Psychedelic Hollow

Itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Joe woke up to the melodious hum of the doorbell. Stretching lethargically, he cracked his joints and jumped off the bed, shaking his head to clear it of sleep, immediately regretting as bright little spots dotted his view.

"Coming!" He popped his head out of his room door and yelled into the emptiness of the house. Nine thirty-five. Frank would arrive about ten-fifteen earliest with the rest of the family coming in later as Aunt Gertrude, Fenton, Laura and Hallie always have their sumptuous Sunday brunch outside before returning home. After throwing a bathrobe over himself for decency as he was even more scantily-clad than Frank had been when Nancy caught him only in his boxers, he trudged down the stairs. Eyelids still so heavy with lingering somnolence, he almost tumbled over in his 'sleep-walk' but thankfully held on the railings in time and was prevented from suffering the same fate as Humpty Dumpty. Finally, after the tedious walk in morass, he threw the door open and immediately rubbed his eyes, unsure if the uninvited visitor was who he thought she was. He was used to seeing things shortly after he woke up anyway. 

"You look pretty." 

"Nan… come in… ahm…I wasn't expecting you so early…" Joe held the door open as she brushed past, surveying the house smilingly.

"Nice place… very homely." She turned around suddenly and he almost bumped into her. Alone in the house, just an inch away from Nancy Drew's lips wasn't exactly a comfortable situation but strangely, it wasn't unpleasant either. She sounded friendly and that would mean that she had forgiven yesterday's argument.

"Sorry…"

"It's ok. I shouldn't have been so abrupt. Bought you breakfast." Nancy passed him the brown paper bag she was holding. He peered into it and smiled when he smelt hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin.

"I asked Frank last night what would make you happy in the morning and he said this. The queue was long at the café that he recommended. Listen buddy, I'm feeling a little bad about the quarrel we have and, I admit, you have your point. I'm sorry. Treat it as I'm just a stubborn, narrow-minded feminist." Nancy lifted her shoulders in a half-shrug, her outstretched hands and open palms mirroring her genuine verbal apology. He led her into the dining hall and placed the bag on the table, happily taking out the delicious breakfast. Just as he was about to bite into the muffin, Nancy pushed his hand down from his open mouth.

"I thought you told me you needed to take some enzyme pills first."

"Oh, right… I forgot… what a drag." Joe grumbled, setting the muffin down on top of the bag. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll go grab the pills, they're in my room."

"Okay. Take your time. Where's everyone, anyway?"

"In Church." Joe hollered back from the foot of the steps, "Frank will be here about ten-fifteen to ten-thirty."

"All right. I need to update you guys on the interview with McCain as well. Looks like we have some new leads." 

"Great. We been to see Howard Wain as well but he wasn't at his house or the car workshop. Since we didn't plan for any sudden B&E last night, we'll probably have to go again this morning, _after_ we call the guy to make sure he and Colin are in."

"If Colin is the culprit, your job is done, right?" 

Joe scratched his head as he leaned against the stairs' railings, "I guess so. Short case. Good too. Frank needs to be free of all distractions for his big day. I will be right back down with my pills!" Cued by the growl in his stomach, Joe scampered up the stairs hurriedly. He could almost taste the muffin in his mouth. Glancing around his room, ruefully remembering Frank and Elle's lectures on tidiness, he knew it would be forever before he finds that little pack of enzyme pills among the piles of clothes, scattered magazines and drawers spilling over with assorted bric-a-brac.

"Come out little pills... oh… where are you guys? Come to daddy! I need to eat some of you! I want my muffin…" Joe sang softly to himself as he rummaged though the litter. In his brief search, a couple of Hallie's 'lost' toys- action figurines really- showed up. Pleasantly surprised, he displayed them neatly on his toys' showcase, admiring, for a second or two, how well they look sitting next to his valuable collection.

And then his stomach rumbled irritably. He had to appease the grouchy old thing before anything else could be done.

"Darn!" He cursed, slamming the last drawer shut, "Not here… where could they be?" 

His last hope was the night table where he dumped his car keys and wallet. However, the pills were not there. Scratching his head, he jumped when Nancy knocked on his open door. Turning around, he could tell by her rounded eyes and arched brows that she was mildly astounded by the mess.

"I don't know cyclones attack a room specifically…" She commented, stepping inside cautiously. "Need help looking?"

"Well, yah… I guess…"

"Okay, I'll check the drawers but you have to look through your… _laundry_… no way am I touching those." She pointed to the tangled jeans and t-shirts and he grinned sheepishly, embarrassment coloring his cheeks red with Day-Glo paint pen. 

"I look through the drawers already but no harm looking again. And, at least, I don't throw worn underwear around… hmm… bad thing to say, right?" Joe grimaced at himself and Nancy nodded sagely.

"Yes, definitely very bad and icky." 

"Icky?"

"Crude, vulgar, typical man's language…" Nancy threw him a condescending smile and he bunched up a t-shirt, pretending to throw it at her, guffawing when she let out a shriek and ducked.

"Hah! I knew you're a girlish girl at heart."

"I'm going to slug you one day…"

"Why not now?" Joe taunted, clutching a few more pieces of dirty clothes in his hands, "Afraid I'll push you in these?"

Nancy shook her head, unable to contain her smile. She closed one drawer and brushed her hands, "You really should vacuum everything here…you can actually convert the dust into artificial snowflakes for one winter season. It's amazing that you just moved home and… bang! It'll take me at least a year to get my room as messy as this…"

"You know, Nan, that does sting a little…" Joe picked up the pair of jeans he wore last night. He had to take the pills before dinner and maybe he left them in his jeans' pocket.

"But you're always messy…"

"No, not that… forget it." Joe shrugged it off, hating to be reminded of the time he tried to exile himself from home. "I'm sorry too about yesterday. You know me. I have something against those so-called feminists who couldn't see the double-standards they are propagating.  And you sounded a little like one, though I know you're not. Would have apologized first but you beat me to it." Joe cast the jeans aside when the search turned out to be futile. "Forget it. I'm destined to not eat breakfast. Later, I'll just ask Frank to drive me to the doctor to pick up more pills."

"On a Sunday?"

Joe threw her a crafty smirk, "We know where he lives. He's our family doctor and frankly speaking, having us as loyal customers is perhaps his worst professional curse."

Nancy laughed, understanding his wry joke perfectly. As the hilarity died off, she looked at him with some uncertainty in her eyes, "Joe, can we backtrack to our _conversation yesterday? There's something I want to say but I couldn't, given my apparent peevishness with you." _

"Shoot." Joe sat on his bed and she took her place next to him. 

"You know when you said something about a girl saying 'No' but her body language says 'yes'?"

Joe narrowed his eyes, looking up at the ceiling, "Yah, somewhat… what about that?"

"Actually, her verbal 'No' takes precedence over whatever her body actions are suggesting because body language is a subjective mode of communication. She may not mean 'yes' though the guy could take it as that. This is why I was angry over what you said about the body language part… a girl wearing miniskirt while walking down a dark alley is _not_ asking to be raped and neither is it her fault if it should happen, though I concede with you that she should have taken responsibility for her own safety. But some people just don't have common sense and worse, they can be equipped with a faulty danger radar."

Joe smiled at her. He already knew what she was trying to explain and just like anger had gone to her head, his masculine reactions towards feminism had also played a heavy hand in his aggravation by what she had said before. "I know, Nan. I was just trying to warn against those guys with no common sense to know a 'No' means 'No', no matter what the circumstances. There are those guys around and they can be anyone- your friends, classmates, colleagues, and even boyfriends and husbands. And rapists lurk in places you don't even expect, not only dark alley ways. Before we start again, I'm not saying we can't trust people. Trust is important and sacred- helps us relate and connect with other people since no man is an island. However, everyone has to guard against danger, girls and _guys alike. Prevention is still better than cure."_

"Point taken too. Nancy patted his lap and giggled suddenly, "You know, we look pretty scandalous right now."

"Huh?"

"Me and you in an empty house, on your bed, with you wearing a bathrobe."

Joe gave her once over, "But you're fully dressed…"

"Right. In a spaghetti-strapped top and a pair of skin tight jeans." Nancy rolled her eyes and Joe laughed, noticing for the very first time that she was casually, yet, very attractively put together.

"You know something?"

Nancy arched a shaped brow and Joe whispered in her ears, "Though I'm sure I look very sexy, I haven't brushed my teeth nor washed my face yet."

"Ew! Gross! Joe Hardy!!!!" She screamed, jumping off the bed.  Sniggering, he disappeared into the bathroom. As he performed his delayed morning rituals, he heard her fiddling with some of his stuff outside. That was Nancy Drew- inquisitive as usual. Grabbing a hand towel from the round handle to wipe his damp face dry, he smiled when she shouted a compliment.

"Hey, your daughter's really cute…" 

_Okay, so you're praising me indirectly._

He hung the towel back on the hanger and strolled out of the bathroom still in his bathrobe, having forgotten to bring in something decent to wear. Nancy was flipping through a recent photo album filled with pictures of Hallie, Vanessa and him before Vanessa flew off to Hong Kong. Sighing heavily, he kept the smile on his face as he approached her, ready to comment on any interesting photos she came across. 

"You and Vanessa look very sweet together… I'm sorry…" She glanced at him, catching that brief pained expression on his face. He dismissed it with a wave of his hand and pointed to the background of the photo.

"It's blurred because I made a mistake with the shutters, aperture and stuff. Never knew how to work those things. But it makes us in the foreground look real clear, huh?"

"Yup, I thought it's pretty artistic…" She flipped through the last few photos before putting the album back into the drawer. "I wished to meet Hallie one day. And you know something? I bet Vanessa is going to realize she made a mistake and come back to reunite with you two soon. Nothing is more important to a woman than her family."

"I don't really want to think about it right now. We have been apart for far too long, seriously. Maybe it's really time to… I don't know… look around." Joe cast one last protracted glance at the album before pushing the drawer shut. "You've been dating after… well… you and Frank?"

"Not seriously. But I'm going to take your hidden advice. Maybe it's time to look around."

"But first, you have to lay things aside. Talk is only talk. I can understand, I tried. Dated many girls in fact… just can't really, you know…" 

"Open your heart to them." She finished for him. Throwing her an odd look, he felt a little weird. Nancy finishing sentences for someone else seemed to be a prerogative of Frank's and vice versa. And he had seen the both of them in action. Even Callie couldn't reach that uncanny telepathic connection with his elder brother and she was about to become his wife. Maybe love was more than being able to reach the other person's mind- hell, he would give anything to be able to read Vanessa's mind. But he knew, despite the wrangling heartaches they put each other through, he had loved her and maybe, still did.

The 'maybe' was killing him inside slowly and miserably. Did he still love Vanessa or was he only haunted by the apparitions of a dead relationship? Who knew such things? He gave up- he hadn't got a clue.

As he leaned against the column of drawers, occupied by his own pathetic mental rambles, Nancy continued scouring his room. Stopping by his guitar which was propped up against a wall, just right under the two white, lattice windows, she knelt down and unzipped the leather jacket, retrieving the instrument. Seated on his bed again, she started to strum simple, off-tune chords before chuckling with awkwardness. 

"Self-taught. Sound like I'm not a good teacher."

Joe smiled gently before pushing his swivel chair towards her. Sitting down in front of her, he gestured for the guitar. "You're right. You sound like you're strangling chickens. Let me show you how a guitar ought to be coaxed…"

"I know Frank plays in a band occasionally and I have heard him. I know how a guitar is _coaxed."_

He pouted, remembering how jealous he was when he watched Frank performing to a crowd of appreciative fans and pub-goers. "Yah… but you haven't heard me. I'm better."

"You sure?" She taunted, "Play me a song. Let me be the judge. And you must sing too… multi-task… you know. Let's see if you can handle it." She handed him the guitar and he stuck a tongue out at her before grinningly shrewdly.

"I know you're just trying to bait me for a song. Well, when I cut a multi-platinum record selling album, you can boast that you heard me first in my room. Let me see…" Joe stared at his guitar, his mind blanked suddenly. Memories always failed him when it came down to the crunch. On an ordinary day, when he was by himself, he could just pluck the chords to about a hundred songs without much fuss and now, all he could think of was, "Three Blind Mice."

Recalling Frank's performance in the pub, the song his brother sang to Callie came to him. He knew its chords and the song was pretty. Any girl would love it even though it wasn't sung by the person they wished was serenading to them.

_*"I was standing, all alone against the world outside. _

_You were searching, for a place to hide._

_Lost and lonely, now you've given me the will to survive. _

_When we're hungry, love will keep us alive…"_

Mesmerized, she leaned forward, her startling blue eyes fixed on his mien- that was good. He grinned, inferring from her fascination that he hadn't lost his charm. Actually, he had been propositioned by many girls for dates but the moment Hallie's existence was known, something he would never deliberately hide, some of them would shy away. He wasn't even looking for commitment but the presence of Hallie caused quite a number of them to think that he was actively looking for a mother for his child.

That would be a scary thought for any girl. He could understand but Hallie was his top priority and he wouldn't hanker after women who couldn't accept that he was a father first and foremost. Those who dared to continue dating him were also in for an unpleasant surprise as he would suddenly just bid them farewell for no apparent reason. Sure, he felt guilty about his irresponsibility but it was better that way, he supposed, when it was obvious that he was merely looking for Vanessa in all of them.

_No longer, probably. Time to let go…_

_*"Don't you worry, Sometimes you've just gotta let it ride. _

_The world is changing, right before your eyes._

_ Now I've found you, there's no more emptiness inside. _

_When we're hungry...love will keep us alive…"_

He didn't know who kissed who first but he remembered looking at her from a different perspective. And he was vaguely aware of his guitar crashing onto the floor and she into his arms. He could taste her peppermint toothpaste and revel in the softness of her body- such a pleasant contrast to her hardened personality.

  
And somehow, though everything seemed so fast and sudden, they also seemed so right.

And wrong, and right. And wrong. He didn't know. The hodgepodge of emotions was too daunting to even try untangling. He didn't want to know anything anymore. He just wanted to kiss her.

_Thank goodness I brushed my teeth._

"Oops… sorry…" 

_Uh-oh… Frank..._

Nancy pushed away from him and stood up, staring at him with her mouth gaping in shock. Joe simply tried to remember how to breathe.

"Don't mind me… I'll just be downstairs and…" Frank's apologetic voice grew smaller and it wasn't after Joe heard the door close that he dared to speak, or more appropriately, squeaked.

"Bad?"

Nancy dabbed at her lips with the back of her hand, horror apparent in her glazed eyes, "Very, very bad."

*The Eagles, "_Love Will Keep Us Alive"  Hell Freezes Over, 1994.___


	14. 13

Psychedelic Hollow 

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Chapter 13

_Picture yourself in a boat on a river,_

_With tangerine trees and marmalade skies_

_Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,_

_A girl with kaleidoscope eyes._

_Cellophane flowers of yellow and green,_

_Towering over your head._

_Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes,_

_And she's gone._

_(John Lennon, Paul McCartney, "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds", 1974)_

Nancy smiled at Frank as he placed a glass of water on the coffee table for her. He reciprocated politely. The mélange of anxiety-related emotions swirling inside her stomach wasn't helping the tensed aftermath of the _kiss_ between her and his brother. Why had she hurled herself on Joe anyway? And why should the little imp sing that song? It was too late for remorse now that the deed was done and, from a lighter hearted angle- the deed was indeed pretty enjoyable.

Still, back to reality, on every count, the kiss was wrong because she didn't want to kiss Joe. If she loved a Hardy, it would always and only be Frank.

_Gosh! Here I am, having these juvenile thoughts like some high school… no… GRADE SCHOOL girl… and I still have a case that's losing direction and aim. Say something, Frank… please… just start any conversation… _

"Hey, bro…" Joe stumbled down the stairs in a very typical loose-fitting t-shirt and jeans. His hair was done up in spikes, and a chain earring was threaded through both the pierced holes on his right ear. Right then, the contrast between Frank and Joe was never more apparent. In a pressed short-sleeved shirt and pants, Frank was the practical antithesis to Joe's grunge, rebellious efforts. She knew which brother her heart beat for so why did she have go kiss the other and create a puddle of quicksand in a safe, happy sandbox?

_The case, __Nancy__! The case!_

"Hello." 

Did she just imagined it or was Frank's greeting to Joe extremely distanced? Glancing quickly at the younger Hardy, she could tell by Joe's fleeting shell-shocked mien that it wasn't her imagination. Joe felt the icy coolness as well. 

_Boy, is this going to be great. I have somehow caused the birth of a feud between the brothers. I done Joe a disservice by kissing him and mistaking him to be his brother. Frank misunderstood everything. My case is hitting against brick walls that I don't exactly have the energy to push down… this is just great. I should just pack my bags, quit my job and go on my annual guilt trip._

"Ahm… so, where have the both of you stopped? I can catch up… no problemo." Joe sprawled himself on the long couch, trying to be unaffected. Nancy, making herself comfortable on the adjacent settee, shook her head, the fakeness of everyone's control in the pressurizing living room settling down heavily on her smile.

"You didn't miss anything. We waited for you."

"Let's start." Frank sat on the floor cross-legged, facing the both of them, his PDA on the coffee table. "You have anything to tell us, Nancy?"

_Nancy__. He's calling me Nancy. That's so bad….bad…_

"The police pretty much believed McCain's story. They gathered that his situation is very similar to that of vacant condominiums broken in by young kids looking for a place to party and crash. Evidence gathered from the scene proves the existence of a variety of club drugs being abused at the rave party but Rofomyn didn't turn out. I have here…" She reached inside her pocket and drew out a small notebook, "Some names. They sent the prints and DNA samples found for lab testing. I don't have the results of the DNA tests yet. Most of the prints were unusable but we do have a couple of exploitable ones. Five names turned out from positive matches- all kids with some records. Speed-driving, drug abuse etc. We also ran Colin's name into the database and it seems like he had a run-in with the law for drug possession two years ago. McCain also told us that besides his wife and children, his younger sister, Lisa McCain, also knew about his neglect of the warehouses."

"Good. I just called Colin's dad before Joe came down, posing as Colin's friend. Colin's at the car workshop, Joe knows the address. I think we better hurry before we miss him again. If in the event that Colin confesses he gave Justin the Ecstasy and spiked Kimberly's drink, and we have no reason for doubts, Hardy Investigations will be finished with the case." Frank smiled apologetically at Nancy, "I'll love to help you along with your angle but I don't think it's a good idea since I'm getting married. But Joe can assist you if you do need help from our agency."

Nancy glanced at Joe again- confidently stretched out on the sofa just a few moments ago, he had squeezed himself to one corner of the couch, as if trying to merge into the background and disappear. And she wasn't exactly very at ease- Frank had been the portrait of a perfect friend and Samaritan earlier in the case and now, he was drawing very clear lines between _his_ case and _her case._

The strain was close to breaking point. She wished Frank would just give them both a chance to explain.

"We may need to split up later today so Joe, can you drive too? Nancy, you can follow Joe. I'll make my way down solo."

"Right." Nancy muttered, having no other counter plans, "As you say."

Thus Frank Hardy laid the decree. The rest followed.

***

"Oh, look… my pills are inside…" Joe, rummaging through his glove compartment for his sun shades, drew out a small, white translucent packet. "No need to wake the doctor… it's his lucky day."

She smiled wordlessly and buckled up. As Frank's Lexus rolled out of the driveway first, she saw him hooking his mobile phone's earpiece over his ear. The stony expression was still on his face, judging by his profile, and the urge to explain things hammered at her chest. If she didn't make things clear to him, her heart would burst from the pressure.

But he wasn't giving her the chance. In a way, he was already pairing her and Joe together when he used go to great pains to take care of her personally.

In an instant, everything changed.

"Nan, you don't have to worry too much about Frank. Maybe he just ain't used to… never mind. Anything I say will sound tactless so I'll shut up." Joe threw her a small smile as he merged the Land Rover with the traffic on the main road. "Nan, I was just thinking if you'll like to, maybe, go out some day… with me, of course. Alone… and…"

The traffic came to a halt with the onset of the red light. Nancy wasn't exactly paying attention to Joe but she caught the gist. Her heart sinking fast while pounding hard simultaneously, she knew she would risk her friendship with both the brothers by her impending decision. Frank's car was just up in front, giving her an idea.

"Joe, I'm sorry. The kiss… it should have never happened." She glanced at him apologetically and wiped the hopeful smile off his face immediately. He blinked rapidly before breaking into that easy grin.

"No worries, Nan. I know how weird everything feels right now…"

"Joe, there's something I have to do. I hope you understand…" Throwing him a hapless look, deciding that it was better if she just did it than waste time and breath explaining, she unbuckled her seat belt and threw open the car door. Before Joe could recover from his astonishment, she slammed the door shut and stepped out into the suspended traffic. Running ahead, praying that the lights would not change before she reached the Lexus which was four cars in front, she was oblivious to the commotion around her.  Ignoring the raucous horns, she finally reached her goal and tried the locked door's handle frantically. He didn't see or sense her though. Engrossed in a phone conversation, she noticed that he was about to step on the accelerator and pounded the window hard.

"FRANK! OPEN UP!"

Frank turned to his side and his eyes widened in shock. Muttering something into the phone, he placed it on his dashboard before unlocking the door on the passenger's side via a button on his arm rest. 

She slipped inside the car, the blast of air-conditioning relieved her from the sweltering Sunday sun.

"Joe's car didn't agree with you?" He smiled awkwardly at her, not comprehending her crazy antics.

"No, Frank. I want to talk about what happened earlier." She laid a hand on his lap, looking up at him solemnly, "There's nothing between me and Joe."

"Well," He kept the smile but shifted his legs slightly, too polite to ask her to retract her touch, "It's okay. I'm glad the both of you hooked up. One of my good friends and my kid brother… who knows?"

"Frank, it's not like that. He was playing the guitar and singing the song you sang to me before. The mood was right, the song was pretty, his room was cozy but…"

Eyeing her oddly, he furrowed his brows and curled his lips thin after which he stared ahead wordlessly. By then, a few cars had overtaken them, horning shriek protests at the Lexus inactivity as they passed. Neither of them cared. From outside her window, she caught Joe driving past with nary a glance their way, his wraparound shades hiding his eyes and almost half his face. A good minute passed when Frank broke away from his rumination and let out a soft nervous laugh. He fired the ignition and started his car. However, instead of going straight as Joe did, he made a sharp right turn.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't barge in like this but I just want you to know how I feel before it's too late." Nancy whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. He kept silent as he turned into an open parking lot and maneuvered the car into a corner spot. It was almost like a vacuum inside the vehicle and right then, noting the quiet frustration etched on his mien, she had misgivings about the correctness of her actions. His life was all paved out and he must have utmost confidence in his decisions but she had to appear once again and throw all that he knew into a whirlwind of quandary.

_But he wouldn't be so confused if he really knows that Callie's the one he wants. My appearance will have made no difference. He wouldn't be so uptight._

_Maybe…_

"Frank, say something…"

"What do you want me to say, Nan?" He looked at her with bloodshot eyes, "You don't just come back into somebody's life… . I'm sorry if I sound selfish but I'm getting married in a few days time. I don't need this."

"Yes, you do. Yesterday, when I said you have found that 'someone', your eyes seemed so sad and regretful. I know it's not my imagination, Frank Hardy. And like it or not, you owe me an explanation. How can you go get married when what we have is _unfinished?"_

"It is finished, Nan." He rubbed his face, clearly stressed out, "It is finished."

"No." She objected, angry and confused just like the day when she received that email from him telling her that he couldn't go down to New York anymore because he was _busy. Their communication broke down because he meant for it to, not her. The next thing she knew, he was engaged to Callie. It hurt more than all the wounds she had ever suffered in her dangerous career, more than she could ever prepare herself for. And Frank Hardy, abnormally irresponsible, didn't even bother crafting out an explanation for some form of closure._

"It is…" Frank took her hand from his lap and clasped it hard, "Nan, I'm sorry if I let you down in anyway but my mind is made up."

"If it was made up, you wouldn't be angry at what you saw!"

"I wasn't angry…" Frank weakly denied, letting go of her hand and rubbed at his temples, "I was probably just shocked."

"You were angry! You didn't smile, joke or tease us as any _buddy would. You became all wooden and refused to even look at your brother, as if he had committed some cardinal sin against you. Look, Frank, you owe me an explanation and I want it now. What happened? We had something going. Then it's… it's all gone…" She looked away as her nose and eyes stung with traitorous tears, "And I don't have a clue."_

 A few seconds passed. She heard him sigh brokenly. If Frank Hardy wanted to bring the conversation to a premature end, there was nothing she could do.

"I was tired of waiting, Nan. I broke up with Callie. I took the plunge just so I can be with you because I believed we would be amazing together. But you strung me along as you kept Ned hanging on. For close to a year, you were looking for excuses to break off with him but never found the courage to tell him the truth- that we were in love. I know I appeared to be understanding to your plight but I was crushed. I thought I was worth you taking a risk and I hate to cheat. Before we got intense, I made it clear to Callie that we needed to explore other options. Yet, you never broke the news to Ned. I just can't keep waiting like a fool."

"I tried," Nancy croaked, knowing he had spoken truly though solely from _his _perspective. She had delayed breaking up with Ned and had wished that he would end their relationship so the guilt wouldn't be so overwhelming. And she had thought Frank understood- how could she have missed the disappointment which must have shimmered in his eyes each time she let him down? "I thought you'll wait."

"I did, Nan. It just seemed like we were going nowhere and I do not like clandestine relationships. We couldn't even tell Bess and George when all I wanted to do then was to shout to the world that Nancy Drew was mine."

"So you went back to Callie. Do you think it's fair for her then? For you and for me?" She shot, momentarily taken aback by the anguish radiating in his swimming eyes. When he spoke next, it was with the air of regrets and guilt, his voice thick with the past he wanted to bury.

"I didn't go back to Callie. I was down. My whole world was crumbling to pieces and I had no one to turn to, not even Joe as our closeness diluted with distance and absence. Despite all that transpired, Callie still endeavored to be my friend. After a spell, somehow, she noticed my depression and came back to pick up the shards for me. It was hard to forget you but I fell in love all over again with Callie. It was then that I knew."

"And you never told her about us?" Nancy questioned, not liking what she had heard. A part of her refused to take the entire blame for the missed opportunities. She had broken up with Ned but Frank didn't stay around long enough for that to materialize. And she wasn't the only one who cheated, "I think you have actually kissed and gotten intimate with me behind her back while you pretended to be all chaste and virginal in front of her- so I don't really understand when we reached the _intensity_ you spoke of and when we didn't."

"We both cheated, I know. And it'll be my guilt to bear. I'll never be able to get an absolution from her because I can never tell her. I know if I confess, I'll lose her and I can't have that happening, Nan. I'm sorry, I really am. To you, to her…" He sucked in a deep breath and slammed his palms on the steering wheel, "Everything."

"Frank, look at me, please…" She reached over and lightly stroked his cheek, feeling the stickiness of tears under her fingertips, ashamed by the spiteful words she spat, "Tell me you made up your mind and I'll let it go. Give me your definite answer."

He didn't face her and neither did he answer. Like an automaton, he buckled up and started the car engine.

"Frank…" She implored, "For me, now. I need to know your answer. Let me have a closure without any doubt."

"I don't know. I don't want to think about it now."

The answer she wanted came in a defeated voice, throwing more questions than certainties. She didn't know how she should feel- elation, guilt, futility and other assorted emotions tossed in her stomach like last night's bad dinner. There was nothing else she could say; that she wanted to say.

And, judging from his somber mien, she knew it was the same for him as well.

***

Wain's CarWorks was a rundown garage in a seedy part of town. Joe had pondered over the name, Howard Wain. Marcie had called herself, 'Mrs. Brown,' which meant that Colin's father should have the surname, Brown. Maybe, inside the Brown's Villa, dark mysteries floated around and mother and son's estrangement, as witnessed by Frank, could have its origins rooted in the unraveling of one enigma.

He tried to keep his mind away from what had happened earlier- it was useless dwelling on it since it was clear from Nancy that he had been treated like a substitute. Sure, he was angry about it and he was mad at Frank reacting in a way which would have a constituted as a betrayal towards Callie. Maybe he had more girlfriends but Frank managed to tangle himself into more knots with two women than Joe with scores of them. Joe always felt that life was fair, nonetheless, he wished that Frank's exceptional IQ hadn't come at such a heavy price to his EQ.

_Intelligent men do the stupidest thing- like getting involved with two intelligent women._

Now, the more pertinent question was if Colin was inside the garage. Professionalism demanded that he ignore all rough tendrils of his private life scratching against his skin. After parking his car across the garage which appeared to be closed for a while with a rusty sedan parked beside its slightly ajar metal roll-up door, he crossed the small lane. Faint rock music drifted out from inside the garage and a strong pungent smell emitted from the gap between the door and the ground. Joe was familiar with the faintly ammoniac stench. One of the members in his anger management class used to smoke marijuana and sometimes, the miasma of the drug hung heavy on his clothes. 

Laughter- delusional and hysterical rang out before a crash was heard. Another voice, urgent and pleading, intertwined with the induced hilarity. Joe's limbs sprung into instant action- it was Justin he heard, beseeching demonic ghosts to leave him alone. More giggles from the other person, Colin? Joe pushed the metal door up and gate-crashed in a private drug party. A lanky brown-haired young man in a filthy white t-shirt lay sprawled on the ground, taking puffs of grass as his glazed eyes stared at his thrashing friend, giggling when Justin knocked into workbenches and overturned chairs.

"Kimburlee… don't go…"

"Justin!" Joe hissed, "Justin, what did you do?"

"Don't chase me! Kimberly's waiting!" Justin's crazed look was horrifying. Sweat matted his brown hair over his forehead and he swung a spanner wildly at Joe, "Stop talking! Stop the noise!"

"It's all right, Justin. Calm down. Let's get you somewhere safer…"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Justin yelled and started batting at the radio on the workbench with the spanner. He missed many times as his limbs jerked spasmodically but finally, he had a hit. The radio crashed onto the floor and the music grew louder, deafening even. The speakers screeched and cackled, obviously not built for such high volume. Instinctively, Joe covered his ears and crouched low, trying to reach for the radio and turn it off when Justin charged at him with the spanner, more agitated than ever. Colin had struggled up and was spinning in circles, laughing and nodding his head faster and faster to the panicky rhythm.

"No! Justin!" Joe brought his hands up to block a swing from Justin. The spanner hit his arm and the jarring pain caused him to grit his teeth. Defending himself, he tried to wrestle the spanner from Justin when the younger man suddenly collapsed onto the floor in front of Joe, twitching uncontrollably.

"Loud… too loud!" Justin wheezed before his spasms overwhelmed him. Curling up rigidly, his fingers balled up in tight fists, he writhed on the grimy floor, face scrunching up with terrible pain. Joe cast a quick glance at Colin and then Justin, knowing that somehow, Justin was having some severe reactions to whatever drugs he had just abused.

"Shh… it's okay. Going to bring you someplace safe." Joe reached over Justin and turned the offending music off. He turned Justin over on his side and unbuttoned his jeans. Next, Joe whipped out his mobile and called for the ambulance.

"Hello, I have an emergency here and need an ambulance ASAP. Possible dire drug reaction… Nope, I don't know what he took…" Joe looked at Justin worriedly but knew that it might be more dangerous for the young man if he drove him to the hospital instead. "Okay, we're at a car workshop called Wain's CarWorks, you can't miss the sign pointing to the garage. It's along Wright's Avenue, near its intersection with Arcade Street. Yes…. Thanks."

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and knelt over Justin, not daring to touch him for fear of antagonizing his heightened senses. Justin seemed to be mildly better with the death of the music but was still wriggling with agony.  Colin, however, was still spinning away to a song in his head. He stopped in mid-swirl when he saw Joe and pointed unfocusedly at the intruder.

"Who… you? Alien……"

"Yes, I'm an alien and be quiet." Joe whispered, trying to be as soft as possible, noticing Justin's aversion to noise. But his instructions were useless as Colin turned away and stared up at the ceiling which had wires and thin sheets of paint dangling down.

"I'm in a spaceship… pretty colors… I'm flying…"

Clutching his injured hand, Joe's heart pounded wildly with surges of anxiety as he prayed earnestly for the ambulance to hurry up.


	15. 14

Chapter 14

Psychedelic Hollow

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

[Bro. Justin and Colin in Bayport Hospital. J in danger. Told Connie. Come now. Joe.]

Frank paced down the corridor leading into the emergency room with Nancy following close behind, unable to catch up with his hurried strides. Joe's curt message elicited a sharp U-turn, screeching of tires and numerous angry drivers in their wake; the onerous discussion temporarily cast aside as worry for Justin's condition took control of all their actions. Nancy held on to her armrest the entire time as Frank flouted traffic rules and regulations- the car practically skidded to the hospital. However, he wasn't the only one in a race against time- at the turn into Bayport Hospital, Conrad's Harley zoomed past, scraping some paint off the side of Frank's Lexus. It was then, as he jammed brake after the contact, did he realize that he would probably not want Nancy and him to greet Joe from stretchers.

"…how is he? Can I see him?" Conrad, who was ahead of them, was shaking Joe hard by the shoulders when they arrived. A nasty bruise on Joe's right forearm explained why his kid brother was grimacing in pain when, usually, he would have pushed himself away from the rough contact with ease.

"Easy, Conrad. The doctor is tending to him… look, he's out…" Joe pointed to a stocky, bespectacled physician who had pulled the green curtain to one side and emerged with a look of grimness on his face. Immediately, Conrad let go of Joe and barged his way right through towards the doctor. Frank stood beside his brother but they might as well be a hundred miles apart. After exchanging small smiles of recognition, Joe nodded to the Conrad who was listening to the doctor detailing Justin's condition with intensifying anguish clouding his mien.

_"… complications. He was convulsing badly and so, we have to paralyze and ventilate him. Right now, his condition is critical but we think we have the situation under control…the drugs he took may be contaminated or maybe he had an overdose…"_

"Once Colin's out of his drug haze, the police are going to charge him with possession of drugs- you won't believe what's being found in that little garage."

"And Justin? What did he take that caused this?" Frank asked gravely. Joe shrugged, his lips pulled back tightly.

"Ecstasy probably. I don't know. They are still running the tests but there's definitely Ecstasy found in the scene, or what looks like Ecstasy. Maybe we'll get more information from Nancy. She's having a good time talking to Con, from what I can see."

Frank did a double take and saw Nancy in muffled discussions with Con Riley, taking down notes into her notebook. He was about to walk over to them when Joe pulled him aside, preventing him from hitting the gurney being wheeled out, transporting Justin out of the ER. Conrad followed hastily behind the doctor and nurses, oblivious to the brothers standing at one side.

A sudden flashback overwhelmed Frank. Instead of seeing the immobilized Justin on the gurney, he saw Joe with a spreading pool of crimson blood over his abdomen. Joe was fighting for his life a little more than a couple of months back and right now, after almost losing his brother to death that would have ripped his mind to shreds, he was being bitter because Joe and Nancy shared a kiss. 

_When you aren't even supposed to be angry about. How idiotic can you get?_

"I'm sorry, Joe." Frank muttered, staring at the diminishing back view of Conrad Daye, praying with all his heart simultaneously that Justin would pull through alive. He would never wish such a fate on anyone- Conrad's life would definitely fall apart if Justin couldn't claw his way out of danger.

"Huh?"  Joe released his grip and rubbed at his bruise absentmindedly. "Whatever for?"

"For, you know, being a jerk."

"Oh, yah. I have forgotten about it… really." Joe draped his left arm over Frank's shoulders and guided him towards Nancy and Con Riley, "But if you want to make it up, you can always make it up to me by giving me a pay rise and…" 

"And?" Frank stopped and spun around when Joe suddenly retracted his hand and halted in his strides.

"With Justin's condition as it is and this case, I know you're probably feeling stressed out. But you have to make up your mind about the two ladies. There are some things that you cannot keep procrastinating on and I think you have delayed long enough."

Trying to muster up a smile but failing miserably, Frank swiped his head towards Nancy and walked ahead of Joe towards the two occupied law officers.

***

"Kertamine, Ecstasy, weed, crack cocaine… you name it, the kid's got it. But right now, he's too incoherent for us to obtain anything. The prosecutor may be charging him with drug possession and intention to supply. Additionally, unless he can prove that the drugs Justin took came from Justin himself, the future doesn't look bright at all for him." Con Riley summarized the police findings thus far and Nancy chewed over them for a moment after jotting the details down in shorthand. 

"Is it known now what he took?"

"Not until the test results comes back. From the looks of it, I think it's Ecstasy. There's an opened packet filled with those tablets and we have two deaths in Bayport a few months back owing to overheating from consumption of Ecstasy. Almost the same symptoms- convulsing, high fever, excessive sweating… I'm no doctor though. Kinda of sad when kids succumb to such fate…" Con Riley raised his head up and grinned wearily, "Hello, Hardy. I have told Agent Drew here everything we know."

Nancy threw a glance behind to see Frank giving Con Riley a dry smile.

"What about telling me? When will the test results be out?"

"We're rushing it. Should be able to interview Colin in a couple of hours' time. They are keeping him under observation just in case he took whatever Justin took as well. But if you ask me, he's just as high as a helium balloon. Sorry about Justin though. But looks like your brother called for the ambulance just in time." Con Riley raised a hand up in greeting, "Hey, Joe."

"Hi, Con." Joe wet his lips, his arms akimbo, "Hi, Nan."

She smiled at Joe apologetically, glad that he wasn't being difficult after what happened. Her attention reverted to Con Riley again; she flipped back a few pages of her notebook and traced the writings with the other end of her pen for what she needed. 

"What about Lisa McCain? Have you brought her in for questioning?"

"We can't. Nothing concrete against her. Thought you may want to interview her yourself."

"All right." Nancy circled the name, "Joe, I need a favor. Can I borrow your wheels?"

Joe gave her a half-shrug, "No problem. I'll throw in the car's body and interior as well. Can't do much with just wheels. You need me around?"

"I'll like to visit Justin and talk to Conrad for a little while." Frank interrupted quickly. Nancy exhaled heavily, a little peeved at what he was assuming- that she might suggest he follow her. As the earlier tension pressure down on them, Frank added grimly, "It's something I need to do for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less."

"And I'll want to proceed along in my case, alone." Nancy commented coolly, deciding to make it easier on the Hardys. Noting the mark of helplessness on Joe's mien, she did feel rather culpable but enough history and confusion had been stirred up by her presence- it was time to do some damage control.

"Okay. I'll go with Frank then." Joe spoke in a small voice and Frank patted his shoulder lightly.

"It's all right. I can be by myself too."

"Well, who knows? I want to be alone too! Think I'll just loiter here and hang out, _all by myself! So much for the apologies!" Joe ranted gesticulating wildly before leaning against the wall, crossing his arms furiously only to let out a slight yowl as he rubbed at a large, purplish bruise, "Dang! Dang, dang, dang!"_

"Don't be a grouch, Joe. I'll hang out with you. Have to wait for the hospital's lab technician to come back with the results too which shouldn't be too long. Maybe you can take a peek at the results later. If you're lucky, I'll even let you follow me as I question Colin later. Just don't let Chief know." Con Riley nudged the younger Hardy, teasing him for acting like a child. That infuriated Joe more and Nancy watched on in amusement as Joe's cheeks and ears took on a bright pink shade.

"Joe, the key?"  She stretched her hand out and Joe grudgingly grabbed the key from inside his jeans' pocket and placed it in her palm.

"Don't crash it! It's not totally mine. And be careful, right Nan? Call if you…"

"Joe, I have gone through extensive training before I become a FBI. I'll be fine. See you later… see you too, Frank."

"Bye Nan." The brothers chorused as she left. She heard the guilt in Frank's voice and a new side of Frank was unveiled to her- an aspect that she wasn't sure she liked. Indecision struck the typically composed and assured Frank when volition was of great paramount. Nonetheless, with Justin in critical condition and _her_ case, even though she barely even knew the guy, she felt reprehensible for still being pre-occupied with her own perplexing relationship woes. 

***

Frank found Conrad in the waiting lounge of the Intensive Care Unit, a place he was unwillingly familiar with. Sensing the newcomer, Conrad raised his crestfallen mien up and forced a strained smile.

"They made me leave the room for a while. I need a breather too." Conrad hunched over, clasping his hair back with both his hands, "I shouldn't have let him go out after yesterday. But he said he needed some air and would be back with lunch. Who knows, huh?"

"He'll be fine."

"The doctor told me his might develop some renal failure crap. Something to do with the kidneys. I don't know. Ever felt anxious and angry at the same time? Feels like a hollow in your chest when you think about what a waste it is."

"Waste?"

Conrad gestured vaguely down the hall to where the glass rooms are, working up a rage. "Justin. Wasting his life on drugs. Renal failure? I don't know what that is but I know he may just die any moment! I'm angry that this happened after we talked for the very first time last night. I'm angry that he down those rubbish pills in his throat after giving me a promise to go clean! And I'm angry at him for putting me right here, right now, worrying to death over his condition! I don't need this shit! And he jolly well doesn't too!"

For emphasis, Conrad slammed a fist on the armrest of the couch hard and scared the other three visitors in the lounge. A passing nurse scowled at Conrad and placed a chastising finger on her lips.

Recognizing Conrad's need to talk it out, Frank kept quiet, remembering those endless nights he spent in the lounge waiting for Joe to rouse. He understood how Conrad felt perfectly- recalling how anxiety could corrode his insides so painfully and how he was willing to trade places with the then comatose Joe. As long as Joe was safe, he would do just about anything.

"He's such a promising kid, Frank. He's not stupid and he's healthy. I don't know what happened- it feels like this entire thing now- this awful stuff- is completely my fault. If this is his way of hero-worshipping me by following my footsteps, then I guess I'm guilty."

"We have been through this before, Conrad. Go easy on yourself. What good can you do self-blaming now?"

"What good can I do now with anything?" Conrad stared at his open palms remorsefully, "I can't do a thing."

"Yes, you can." Frank clapped his friend's broad back firmly, "You can pray and you can stay by his side. Talk to him, tell him what you long wanted to say but never found the chance or moment. He can hear you and your support will work wonders. The best thing you can do for him now is to be his pillar of strength because he has none if you crumble. Then, when he's all right, the both of you can work properly to pick up the pieces."

"And if he doesn't get well?" Conrad asked, his eyes brimming, "What if he doesn't make it?"

Keeping his tone steady and his expression stoically calm, Frank squeezed his friend's shoulder, "We'll cross the bridge if we have to come to it. Right now, you have to believe that he's going to be okay."

Dejectedly, Conrad nodded before letting out a frustrated sigh and slumping back against the couch, "If it's not too much trouble, Frank, can you just stay here for a while until I can go in and see him again?"

"No trouble at all." Frank replied sincerely, "Just glad I can be of help."

"By believing in Justin, you're helping more than you know." Conrad nodded towards a vending machine in the corner, "Coffee?"

***

"My son has not done anything wrong and he's not talking. I have called my lawyer and Colin shall say nothing until he arrives. You can all get your asses out of here right now." Marcie Brown stood up from the chair next to her son's bed, crossing her arms sternly. From Frank's description, Joe had a rough idea of what Marcie would be like. However, knowledge didn't make dealing with Marcie easier. She had clearly earned the ire of the police officers and caused her son to wince more than a few times when her overbearing nature spilled over the boundaries of 'barely tolerable."

"Mrs. Brown, may I remind you that we found an assortment of drugs in the garage…"

"Which must belong to either his good-for-nothing friend or idle father. Colin is but a victim of ill-influence." Marcie spat, laying a protective hand on Colin's shoulder, to the scowling kid's disgust, "Now, must I sue all of you for disturbance? And what is this young man doing here?"

"I'm Joe Hardy, a private investigator, Mrs. Brown…"

"Hardy… from Hardy Investigations? I regret the day I ever spoke to someone else from your firm. Good day." Marcie waved him off irritability. The splenetic woman got a rude shock of her own when Colin shrugged her touch away, a picture of blatant defiance.

"They are talking to me, not you." He groused softly, turning to one side, facing away from his mother. Marcie Brown, enraged, grabbed Colin by his shoulder to pull him flat on his back again.

"Don't be insolent now. I have just enough of you, young man!"

"Fine! Then have enough! I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore!" Colin yelled into her face, a small smirk dancing on his lips when his mother paled, her mouth gaping as if he had just punched her in the solar plexus. Regaining her composure, she smiled acidly at her own son, a menacing glint in those dark steel eyes.

"If you want it this way, good. I wash my hands off you. You can go to your deadbeat father for all I care, Colin. Don't come crying when they decide to lock you away for years."

"I can't come crying if they lock me up. And I won't miss you." Colin glowered at his mother. His obstinate recalcitrance came as a blessing in disguise as Marcie heaved heavily, seemingly about to explode before she spun around on her heels and stormed right out of the room. Con Riley grinned at Joe as she left, apparently relieved and ecstatic.

"And don't think I'm so dumb as to talk to you guys before my lawyer comes. My mom's gone, doesn't mean my brains left as well. Why don't you guys leave? Go eat some donuts or whatever it is you do to waste taxpayers' money." Colin, spotting the look of triumphant in the officers' expressions, muttered condescendingly. Con Riley bristled from the sarcastic barb but wasn't deterred. Flipping through the lab technician's report which Joe had glanced through as well as asked for a copy, he eyed Colin warily.

"We are not so much concern about you as we are with your friend. He's in critical condition right now and we are hoping you tell us what he took."

"Justin?" Colin sat up straighter on the bed, his eyes instantly alert, "Critical condition?"

"Yes. He's not out of the woods yet. If you can tell us anything that may help, it'll be much appreciated because, according to the reports, something is very wrong with some Ecstasy pills found in your garage. Is that what he took?" Con Riley asked. Colin squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to remember, before shaking his head.

"I don't know. Maybe one."

"Maybe one?"

"Maybe. Is his condition really that serious?" Colin demanded, his eyes flashing, "Can I see him?"

"He's in the intensive ward. Now, if you'll just co-operate with us. Do you know of strychnine?"

"Huh? What's that?"

"Rat's poison. It's found in a couple of Ecstasy pills we seized from your garage while the rest have a significant higher level of MDMA than…"

"What's MDMA?" Colin interjected. The police officer arched his brows briefly before sticking his nose back into the report.

"3,4-methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine… Anyway, that's the active ingredient in those pills you take to get high and the tablets found in your garage have a much higher composition of them than the usual street offerings. Just one tablet can easily cause an overdose reaction. The ones with strychnine are blue in color while those with a higher dosage are pink. Is your memory coming back now?"

"I don't know crap about MDMA or strychnine… I really don't. Now that you know what those pills contain, go and treat Justi…" Colin clamped his mouth shut, knowing he had said too much. Con Riley smiled grimly and whispered to his accompanying officer who nodded and left the room.

"We'll make sure the doctors knows about it and take the necessary steps though I doubt there's much they can do besides stabilizing your friend. He's in a lot of trouble. Can you tell us if you offered Justin the pills or did he bring them along himself?"

"I don't know." Colin bit his lips and clutched the blanket tightly in his fists, "I'm not going to talk anymore until my lawyer comes."

"Colin, sometimes it helps other people if you tell the truth. Maybe those bad drugs are circulating outside, killing more unsuspecting users. And if you know anything that can help Justin out of the mess he's in, isn't it worth telling us too?" Joe decided to jump in, appealing to whatever conscience Colin had inside. From what he had been quietly observing, Colin was genuinely concern for his friend and seemed like a good kid despite all the rough edges, "You know what mess I'm talking about."

"I don't know. Sorry. And since you're a private investigator, break this mystery, knucklehead. 'I'm not talking anymore'. Duh." The visage of a worried best friend quickly melted away, unveiling the mien of the cynical angst-ridden youngster. Con Riley rolled his eyes and slammed the lab report shut.

"Earlier, I have already read you your rights. We are going to transfer you to a holding cell after the doctor discharges you. And until someone posts bail, you are not going to get out. I just ask you to think about the situation Justin is in and hopefully, you'll find enough heart inside for your _friend to tell us as much of the story as you know it."_

Colin grunted, pulled the pillow out from under him and pressed it down against his face, shutting out everyone and everything around him.


	16. 15

Psychedelic Hollow 15

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

The unassuming picket fence house with white walls and a navy blue roof brought an odd sense of familiarity to Nancy even though she had never seen it before. It looked nothing like her father's house back in River Heights and definitely a far cry from her own apartment in New York City, where she now isolate herself in with her work. Yet, somehow, its simplicity was cozy to the eye and Nancy couldn't help the slow smile that crept up her lips. Now, the house wasn't a grandiose affair and neither did it broadcast modernity and good taste. Yet, it was so easy to imagine a happy little family living inside with two little children, a boy and a girl, playing catch in the backyard.

And the ease of attaching a dream to the nondescript house, to her, was the evidence of impeccable architecture.

The brief moment of day-dreaming over, she walked up to the house through the open gates. A relatively safe town, the residents of Bayport could still afford the luxury of leaving their gates yawning wide. Nancy envied that and was momentarily stricken with home-sickness- it was the same in River Heights but in the city, to protect her little apartment, she had bolted four locks on her door and installed a state-of-the-art burglar alarm. 

Nancy's knocks on the French-styled front door was quickly answered by a bright-eyed, curly-haired lady of in her late twenties at most with an apron tied around her waist. She flashed her FBI card and inquired with a genuine smile, "Hello, Lisa McCain? I'm Agent Drew, FBI."

"Ahm, yup. That's me! FBI?" She took the card from Nancy and inspected it nervously, "Is anything wrong?"

Not reading too much into Lisa's anxious expression, knowing that was most likely the reaction of people suddenly called upon by the Bureau, Nancy took the card back and spoke reassuringly, "I just need your help in an investigation. May I come in?"

"Yes, of course…" Lisa unlatched the chain holding the door chair and swung it fully opened, standing to one side, allowing Nancy to pass, "Do you mind following me into the kitchen? I have to watch over my cooking."

"I don't mind at all. Smells good." Nancy commented as she followed Lisa into a functional and clean kitchen. A pot was simmering stew on the stove while a chicken was grilled in the oven and the kitchen had a smell that reminded Nancy of butterscotch. She sat on a small stool over by a tiny round table cluttered with a chopping board, vegetables' remnants and opened bottles and jars of sauces and seasonings. Lisa blushed embarrassedly, hastening to clear up the mess.

"I'm sorry. I am preparing dinner." Lisa swept the unwanted leftovers into a plastic bag and threw it into the bin. Next, as Nancy made herself comfortable, she gathered up the chopper and brought it to the sink. Nancy observed as Lisa's brown curls swung to-and-fro as she spun abruptly to the left than right, as if she needed to do something desperately but forgotten what the task was.

"I just need your assistance to answer some customary questions, that's all. You don't have to be so flustered."

"Water! That's it." Lisa clapped her hands, smiling widely. Ignoring Nancy, she poured two glasses of water and set them before Nancy after which she took a seat across the table.

"How can I help you? Do drink the water. It's really hot outside and you must be thirsty."

"Thanks…" Nancy took a sip, hovering her pen over her notebook. "Miss McCain, do you know about your brother's, Kevin McCain, warehouses down at Bayport Industrial Park?"

"Yes, of course. Bad investments but Kev's the businessman, not me. Maybe he saw something in the future value?" Lisa gestured around vaguely, "I'm sorry. I'm not really well-versed in such things. Kev complained about them with Maria and Toby during some of our weekly dinners and they kind of left me out. Is there something wrong with the warehouses?"

"No, nothing is wrong. Who is Maria and Toby?" Nancy asked, her interest piqued.

"Maria's my brother's wife. And Toby is my fiancé." She threw Nancy a toothy smile and flashed her right hand at Nancy, showing off a ring set with a large diamond on the fourth finger, "We are getting married in a couple of months time."

_Nice… must be terribly expensive…_

"… told him he doesn't need to get me such a ring since he doesn't really earn much as a salesman in B.G's Electronics, but he said I'm worth every penny…"

_Salesman? That looks like something celebrities' buy, not salesmen…_

"…pretty isn't it? I must be the luckiest woman alive…" Lisa clasped her hands together, a whimsical expression gracing her mien. Nancy smiled tightly and nodded, humoring the besotted young woman.

_Everyone's engage nowadays. Bah._

"I'm sorry… what is it you want again?" Breaking from her personal reverie, Lisa looked blurrily at Nancy who shook her head smilingly.

"It's ok. Lisa, what are you working as?"

"Me? I don't have a job. Toby said he'll provide for me." Lisa answered with a tinge of pride, "He bought the house, gave me a supplementary card… I have everything I need with him."

_Hmm, looks like you're a pretty simple home-maker. I hate to think this but you must be pretty dumb to not suspect anything when Toby, a salesman, can afford to give you such luxury without you having to chip in even a penny. _

Nancy kept her thoughts to herself but decided to not pressure Lisa anymore. Accessing Lisa to be someone who would spill everything and anything to those around her, she would rather probe for more sensitive information from someone else and hope Lisa magically forgot about her visit.

"Thank you for your time, Lisa. I'll be off now." Nancy stood up and Lisa wore the most disappointed look on her face.

"Do you want to stay a little longer and try some of the butterscotch cookies I just baked? They are very good!"

"No thanks. I'm watching my figure." Nancy declined politely, "Thank you again."

"No problem… I hope I have been of help and that my brother isn't in trouble or anything." Lisa stood up as well and showed Nancy to the door, "Drop by anytime you want! It's really nice talking to you!"

_Is this woman for real? Nancy mused as she left, following the details written on her notebook to Kevin's McCain's house. The siblings stayed only a few streets away and the entire journey took her at most twenty minutes. Ambling up the unit amongst a row of handsome American vintage town houses, Nancy knocked on the functional front door a few times but received no replies. Frowning, she tried one more time to no avail. Clucking her tongue in disappointment, she turned and walked towards the car when she heard the door swung opened. Immediately, she half-turned her body to find a dapper woman in a very smart blouse and crisp, stylish jeans standing at the entrance._

"My apologies. I was in the bathroom and my husband and children are not in. May I help you?"

"Are you Maria McCain?" Nancy fully turned around, walked back up to the house and flashed her card, "I'm Agent Drew, FBI."

"Oh…" The woman seemed mildly shocked but quickly regained her composure. Smiling politely, she stood aside to let Nancy pass, "I'm Maria McCain but you can call me Maria. Is anything wrong?"

_Hah. Same question. Of course when I visit someone I don't know out of the blue, usually, something is wrong._

"I'll just like to ask a few questions regarding your husband's warehouses down by Bayport Industrial park." Nancy indicated towards the couch in the living room and Maria rushed over, embarrassed for lingering by the door when she was supposed to be the host.

"Please, sit down. Of course. What do you want to ask about the warehouses?" Maria sat down on the armchair adjacent to Nancy's long couch, worry flashing past her deep-set but narrow blue-green eyes, "I thought my husband has answered the police's queries…"

"Yes, but I'll just to ask a few questions, if you don't mind." Nancy looked around the sparsely furnished living space nonchalantly, taking out her notebook from her pocket at the same time. Besides the couch, armchair, a plain coffee table and a boxy television set with a family photo- obviously taken of late showing a heavyset man with one arm around his attractive wife and the other resting on one of their two daughters who appeared to be twins with mark resemblance to their mother- there was no other furniture, not even an ornament to warm up the rather cramp area. "Just moved in?"

Maria's cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink, "Yes, rather recent. We can't resist this charming little place. The rest of the furniture will arrive soon."

"Ah…I see." Nancy noted her observations in her mind first, not wanting to alert Maria more than she already had. She nodded towards the photo and arched a curious brow, "Your children are lovely. How old are they?"

"Jen and Anna are twins- both eight years old." Maria replied, a soft smile on her lips, "Extremely hyperactive."

"I know the kind." Nancy remarked with an empathetic lopsided grin. "They like the move?"

"Rather. Though they do wish to go back to the old house- the garden and the pool…" Maria let slipped and coughed awkwardly, "But Kevin thought it was such a waste since there are only four of us, you know. We should live more humbly, lest our wealth spoil the kids."

"Hmm, not all parents are willing to make such sacrifices in luxury to prevent their kids from being spoiled."

"We are pretty strict on that. Jen was showing signs of snobbishness and we thought this may be the only way, albeit a little drastic." Maria shrugged, "About the warehouses?"

"Oh, yes. Your husband told me that only you and his sister, Lisa, know about the warehouses he bought years back. Is that true or maybe there's someone he missed out?" Nancy feigned ignorance of the knowledge about 'Toby', hoping that Maria would be forthcoming with the information without rousing too much suspicion. Lisa had already mentioned that Kevin discussed it pretty often with Toby and Maria but Kevin had not brought up Toby's name to the police. It could be a slip or something more- before she established the reason behind Kevin's sheltering of Toby's name, she would go with what Kevin reported to the police.

Maria knitted her brows, "Lisa and me. The children I guess. But they are inconsequential…"

"Have you or, to your knowledge, Lisa spoken about it to anyone else?"

"It's such a terrible investment; I'll rather keep it to myself. He bought it when the prices were atrociously expensive. Lisa… Lisa could have… oh yes!" Maria pushed her fringe back, her eyes widening with recollection, "And Toby. That's Lisa's fiancé. Yes, he asked Kevin once during one of our weekly dinners about the warehouses and sometimes, we will joke about it. But we haven't brought up the subject for a long time."

_Bingo._

"Do you know Toby's full name? What is he like?" 

"Tobias Anderson. He's an okay chap, I guess. Stays with Lisa. I may be the wrong person to ask about his character because I don't… well…" Maria twisted her lips to one side, her eyes narrowing, "He seemed to know how to make a lot of money moonlighting but I never ask him about it. There's something about him that I can't put a finger to… . But it's not in my place to say anything. Kevin seemed to grow used to him and Lisa loves him. He's pretty decent."

Nancy jotted down the description into her notebook, biting into her lower lip as she ruminated over what she had just heard, "So, this weekly dinner. Is it a regular thing?"

Maria shook her head, "Used to be. Kevin was rather religious about it before because Lisa and him are very close. Come Wednesday and, sometimes, Friday, nights, the house will be splitting apart with their laughter. But Lisa's spending more time with Toby now, busy with wedding preparations, work, whatever. They don't come over often anymore and we don't get invited to go over."

"I'm sorry to hear that…" Nancy commented off-handedly. Maria waved a dismissive hand, rolling her eyes wryly.

"Don't be. Less cooking, less noise. It didn't used to be that bad when it's only Lisa. I enjoyed having her around. But Toby likes to drink and stay on for so long that I wonder if he hated going home." 

_Hmm…food for thought? _

_Definitely._

"I think that's about it all, Maria. Thank you for your help." Nancy stood up and extended a hand. Standing up, Maria took it and gave it firm shake.

"It's my pleasure, Agent Drew. I'm glad I can be of help. My husband too gave the police everything he knows. The way those kids hijacked our warehouses gave me an idea. I think it'll be great if we can convert into some sort of pubs- one side jazz, the other side, well, pop-ish. Of course without the drugs. What do you think?" Maria glanced at Nancy, genuinely interested in her opinions, "I don't do the club scene anymore now that I have kids. But you look like a woman who will appreciate a drink to unwind after work. Do you think it'll some appeal to the higher-income young preppies in search of an alternative venue to chill out instead the usual pubs in town?"

"Yes, it may… sounds like a good idea. But you'll have to be careful of the security over there. It's after all, an industrial area, and can be pretty quiet and eerie during night-time, not to mention, out of the way." Nancy opined, "But it sounds cool. Probably a niche market."

Maria clapped her hands beamingly, "I know it'll be. If the idea takes off, I'll give you a lifetime VIP card. Two if you introduce more friends over."

Nancy chuckled lowly, showing herself to the door, glad that Maria warmed up in time to her to be more free-flowing with information, "Sure. Thanks again."

"Oh, pardon my manners." Maria raced ahead of her towards the door, opening it for Nancy, "Have a good day."

"You too, Maria. And thanks again." Nancy bade her farewell and went to the car with enough new angles and suspects to chew over, definitely keeping her busy for the rest of the night.

Too busy to sulk over Frank Hardy.

***

"Strychnine… over-killed pills… Strychnine."  Frank mulled over a copy of the lab report that Con Riley had quite freely given the Hardys. Joe swiveled left and right in his chair, too sore over his failure to get Colin to open up to think clearly. After the police were done with Colin, Joe lingered behind to talk to him, hoping to appeal to some conscience inside for a glimmer of information that can help Justin. When it was obvious Colin was clamping his mouth shut, Joe gave up (for the day) and left to visit Justin. Conrad sat beside his comatose brother like a statue, just watching his brother slumber. Seeing Justin incapacitated made Joe carve a promise on his chest to see that the truth be revealed. And his gut feeling was telling him that Justin didn't spike his girlfriend's drink. Now, Joe needed the facts to either back-up his instincts or demolished them.

Facts that he knew Colin had.

"You know Joe, contaminated Ecstasy pills isn't that common. In fact, by statistics, it's pretty rare, though, still a concern. More die from overdose or reactions to taking the drug, especially in badly ventilated places. So I find this Strychnine very suspicious. Why not I postulate…" Frank set the report aside and leaned over the work desk, tracing small circles in the air with his pen.

"Supposed this Rofomyn case finally had a leak that the culprits want to plug in before it's too late. Somehow, Colin had something to do with Kimberly's death and the pills were given to silence him and Justin. It wouldn't raise brows if two stoned out kids died consuming contaminated Ecstasy pills since such cases occurred before, though pretty uncommon. They can blame it on a bad batch. To make sure Colin and Justin die, pills with a higher dosage of MDMA were also given. It wouldn't be too much trouble getting them to consume those pills. Both are heavy users and Justin's in depression, in need of a quick fix for his pain. It'll be almost… _natural._"

Joe stopped turning his chair with his posterior and stared into Frank's eyes, amazed. "That's rather plausible. But Colin didn't admit to the Rofomyn and there's no evidence of the pills in his hands… it could be a case of bad batches after all."

"I know. But Strychnine?" Frank's eyes tapered in contemplation, slipping the pen behind his right ear, "I don't know. Most pushers won't want to sell contaminated pills as they would want regular customers. I think we have to prepare for the worst and the worst is, given the almost instant news report on Colin and Justin's predicament, that if their lives are threatened, the killer will strike again. Colin's pretty safe, since he's already transferred to the holding cell under the watchful eyes of our finest. But Justin is not."

Leaning his left cheek against his left hand which was propped upright on the work desk, Joe threw his brother a look of endorsement, "Okay. You call Con Riley."

"I am just about to." Frank picked up the receiver and dialed Con Riley's direct line, "In the meantime, think about how you can work your _counselor charms on Colin. You did fine with Justin and I think you can break through to Colin to provide us with more information."_

"Counselor charms?" Joe mused dryly, "I think it's more a case of relating. I could have gone their way easily. Anyone can."

"Yes, but not everyone can talk to them…" Frank smiled encouragingly at him before placing a finger on his lips, "Con! It's me, Hardy. Listen, I was just thinking about the case and I think you should step up security outside Justin's room and watch over Colin…"

***

Joe walked up to the front door from the gates where Frank dropped him, quite beside himself without the use of his Land Rover which made him feel very stiff and immobile. The conveniences of modernity. He would never survive in areas where kids had to walk miles just to go to school everyday and he thanked God that Elle was pretty generous with the vehicle, allowing him to pay her back in gentle installments.

It was rather late but the lights were still switched on. Hallie should be sleeping and Aunt Gertrude had the habit of turning in early. Maybe his parents decided to get a little romantic. He would feel rather embarrassed if he caught them waltzing to some oldies with a glass of red wine in each of their hands. However, quickly analyzing further, he doubt he would intrude upon a private party. The lights were not dimmed and music did not escape from under the door. Stepping inside the house, he was rather taken aback to find Callie sitting by the dining table with Laura who had a very concerned and perplexed expression on her mien.

"Joe, Callie's waited long for you."

"Oh, hi Cal! Hmm, you should have called me." Joe sauntered over, outwardly casual but a premonition of something awful caused his stomach to rumble, "Then you wouldn't need to, ah, wait so long."

"I didn't want to. Want to give you a surprise. Good to see you home, Joe." Callie beamed at him but the smile was as fake as a plastic Barbie doll. Joe sat down opposite Callie and his mother who stood up slowly.

"I'll leave you two alone… don't talk too late. You need to have ample rest before your wedding, Cal." 

"Thanks, Laura. I'll remember that. And thanks for waiting up with me." 

"Laura? You should be calling me mom, darling." Laura kissed Callie's cheek and squeezed Joe's shoulders as she went upstairs to her room. Joe noticed, with some apprehension, that Callie had merely smiled weakly at Laura's teasing suggestion when she would usually happily complied, excited to be part of the Hardy's household finally. He nodded towards the kitchen and smiled at Callie crookedly.

"Want a drink?"

"No, thanks. I'll be quick because I am tired. Joe, do you know if there's anything between Frank and Nancy?" Callie shot him the question so abruptly and point-blank that Joe tensed up, caught unaware as the sinking feeling of being dragged into quicksand overwhelmed him nauseatingly. However, for his brother's happiness, he had to trudge in the muck as bravely as possible and hope that Callie would be assuaged with simple, pleasant answers.

_Now, keep it as scant and short as possible._

"They are friends." Joe answered blandly as if bored and unaffected, leaning back against his chair and crossing his long legs under the able.

"Just friends?" Callie hunched over the table, supporting her chin with her fists, "Are you certain?"

"Yup." Joe pushed his hair back with both his hands, "Just friends."

"B.S!" Callie hissed, slamming her palms on the table top, "I know everything, okay? I know about his little trysts with Nancy. You don't have to lie anymore…"

_""Curiosity kills the cat. I don't know if I should confide in you… with you being Frank's brother and… let's just say that we used to be close once and then…" _

_God. Why do my brother's girlfriends have to put me through such torture? They are my **brother's girlfriends!**_

 "… how he gotten intimate with her behind my back…I know. They are detectives after all, sharing cases together, having common interests…" The anger melted into tears. Callie looked away, pressing her hand against her mouth as she convulsed with sobs of betrayal. "What am I to him? Just some _girlfriend_ back home."

Pained by her hurt that Frank had caused, wondering how Callie knew about the chemistry between Nancy and Frank which had, as far as he knew, exploded in fireworks a couple of times, Joe didn't know what he could say and knew that Callie had seen through his lies, making it futile to insist on their non-existent veracity. He reached inside his jeans' pocket for the packet of tissue, pulled out a yielding sheet and handed it to Callie who took it gratefully, still looking away from him.

"Callie, maybe there's a misunderstanding…" Joe lamely suggested but Callie shook her head vehemently.

"No. There's no misunderstanding. I heard it from him with my own ears. How _misunderstood can I be?"_

"Cal, talk to him, not me. I don't know. It's between you and him. I'm sorry, I really can't…" Joe shrugged helplessly, "It's late. Let me send you home."

"I can go home myself. I took a cab here because I'm so distracted I can't drive. I can call for one back."

"No, Cal… I'll just take my dad's car. Wait here, okay? Go back, have a good rest and the next day, have a good talk with him. The both of you love each other so much, I'm sure this can be resolve." _Somehow._

Callie nodded to his relief as he wouldn't feel comfortable leaving her alone. At least he could send her safely back. First thing after he dropped her off, he was going to call Frank and warn him of impending danger. But as luck would have it, his hand phone was low on battery. 

"Darn. God, please let Callie just go to bed and not call Frank or do something silly to ruin their marriage plans. I know they love each other..." Joe prayed softly. Callie had, on the way back to her house, used up two full packets of tissue paper. If he had a dictionary, he was extremely certain that Callie's face would be right next to the word, 'Distraught.'

And though he was rooting for his brother, he couldn't help but feel that it was a matter of sooner or later in Frank's cards. Sordid histories left unresolved had a peculiar way of resurfacing at the most inopportune time.

Whatever it was, it had been a long night and strangely, he was pretty hungry. Maybe that was what too much emotional duress did to him. Popping his pills, he scoured the shops nearby Callie's house for a late-night snack and found a twenty-four hour diner. Before he knew it, he downed a deluxe corny dog, one medium diet coke and a packet of chips. Satisfied, he returned home with a contended stomach but knotted chest.

"Urp…" Burping as he turned into the driveway, he was looking forward to sleep when he spotted Frank's Lexus parked at a skewed angle just outside the front porch, and Frank slouching against the car's frame. With a heavy eyelids and an even heavier heart, he exited the Volvo and just knew that Callie, the volcano, must have exploded. Frank should be back home, looking for support and sympathetic eyes.

However, he grew wary as he approached his brother. There seemed to be a smoldering fire behind Frank's dark eyes, a glint reflected eerily by the starlight.

_Hmm, Frank doesn't look happy. Of course. If Callie did what I think she did, Frank would be the most miserable person in the world. Let him rant, let him rant, let him rant…_

_ "Hey, bro. How funny. Your girlfriend was just here and…oof!"  Joe crashed onto the ground, his jaw hurting from where Frank's fist made sudden, terrible contact. He staggered up, shocked._

Frank advanced towards him with balled up fists ready to strike again.


	17. 16

Psychedelic Hollow

Chapter 16

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

_"Frank?"_

_"Callie! I missed you!" Frank gushed into the phone. On his way back home, he could think of nothing but her, yearning to run to her and lay on her lap, unloading whatever stress he had onto her willing shoulders for a little while as she tenderly stroke his hair._

_And it was during the drive when he reaffirmed what he knew. The definite knowledge had slipped away momentary as nostalgia for a lost love wove cobwebs around the truth. However, when the mustiness cleared, Frank came to understand that __Nancy__'s return was but a distraction, stirring up memories of what was already buried and returned to earth. That was all he felt for _Nancy-___ echoes of the love he once shared with her. Like echoes, the confusing emotions faded away into the hollowness, revealing the emptiness within._

_His choice had always been Callie and no one else. It was a terrific feeling to finally know what his heart already knew._

_"You do?" The sarcasm stunned him and he grew anxious- was she just jesting? Her tone was uneven, sounding like the aftermath of a breakdown. Something was very wrong. He sat down slowly on his couch and clutched the receiver tighter._

_"Are you okay, darling? Anything wrong?"_

_"You."_

_"Me?" Frank asked, baffled, "Why? What do you?" _

_"You are wrong for me. Let's not deceive ourselves, Frank. I know everything about you and Nancy. Just spoke to Joe and it just confirmed every gut feeling I had and everything I've heard. You know what I'm doing now? I'm going through your emails, something I have never done even though I knew the password. Oh look! There's a folder named ND- Nancy Drew. With letters between you and her dating back years ago! To dates before we had that hiatus from each other. How exciting! Shall we open this one with the subject, 'Missing you this weekend' or this one 'Love you, Can't Wait to See You,' or better yet! 'Love song for Frank Hardy!'" She sucked in a deep breath before continuing. Frank shocked to speechlessness- the folder. The email was a web account that he had neglected for quite some time as he had switched to a better provider. And yes, he had forgotten about the folder as well._

_"You see, Frank. You betrayed my trust by cheating on me. I betrayed your trust by checking your emails. We're almost even. Let's call of the wedding since there is no longer an 'us'"_

_"__Cal__… let me explain!" Regaining his faculty of speech, Frank spoke hurriedly into the phone before she could hang up, "It's…"_

_"You can say whatever you want but there's nothing I want to hear. Goodbye, Frank. And don't come over to my place. I'll hate you forever if you do. I don't want to marry you anymore as I don't see much of future between us."_

_She didn't slam down the phone. The soft 'click' served only to accentuate the silence and void which was suddenly carved in his chest. Callie wasn't joking. She was serious. She knew. _

_"I just spoke to Joe and it just confirmed everything I've hear__"_

_He held on to the phone. Just a while ago, he was about to be married to the girl of his dreams. Now, he was holding those jagged shards of a broken hope._

_She just spoke to Joe__, he thought angrily. Thoughts and emotions jumbled inside of him until he was about to crash. Hurling the phone onto the floor, he stood up and marched out of his apartment. _

_She just spoke to Joe._

_Joe._

***

"What the…" Joe gasped as he cupped his jaw, staggering back to delay his brother's assault. "Frank!"

"Don't Frank me!" Frank whispered harshly. Stopping abruptly a couple of feet in front of Joe, he pointed at him accusingly with exceptionally infuriated tapered eyes and body quavering with rage.

"You. Told. Callie. About. Me. And. Nancy."

He had been stunned by the blow but slowly, as he regained spatial awareness, he fell into the spell of provoked anger. Seething as laborious breaths came to him painfully, slowly fanning the fire building his chest, he returned the flame blazing behind Frank's eyes spark for spark.

"Did. Not."

"Did too!" Frank jabbed Joe's chest hard with the offending finger, "She said she spoke to you and decided to call off the wedding, telling me to have a grand time with Nancy! How would she know if it wasn't for you? Through Nancy? Through me?"

"Yah, maybe! And don't point at me!" Joe swiped his brother's outstretched hand away, "I don't deserve this! This is among the three of you and I told her to talk to you, not me! Maybe you told her, unconsciously slipping up as your guilt eats at you! I'm not obliged to cover up your dirty tracks!"

Frank grew pale but it wasn't because he was ashamed. His anger, white and hot, had burned his complexion to the color of ash. Both of them glared at each other, locked in a battle of stubborn rage. Then, cutting through the tension which almost manifested into a physical form by its sheer intensity, Frank poked at Joe's chest again and the latter stumbled back from the sharp, annoying pain.

"You asked for it!" Joe hissed and charged at his brother. A flurry of tangled limbs, fists, kicks and head butts had the both of them soon wrestling on the hard ground, desperate to better the other man. When it was clear there could be no winner, the only thing on Joe's mind was to destroy Frank's expensive shirt.

Grabbing both of Frank's sleeves, he pulled at them hard as Frank, from under him, yanked his fringe sharply, causing him to fall forward. Frank then finished by giving him a hard push just below the chest, utilizing momentum to topple Joe over. Joe scrambled up and spun around quickly to find that his brother had already jumped to his feet and was right in front of him, giving his shoulders a rude shove.

"That's it!" Frank advanced and pushed him back a couple of steps again, "You not only ruin my marriage but you ruined my shirt! Why did you have to come back anyway? You're always causing more trouble for everyone!"

"You pushed me too far! Take back what you say, _brother!" Joe yelled. He waved at Frank tauntingly to make his next move like the pugilists in gong-fu movies. "Why stop now? Afraid? Use your martial arts against me, Nanny Goat!"_

"STOP THIS NONSENSE! I WILL NOT TOLERATE FIGHTING UNDER MY ROOF!" Joe heard the door swung open and next, Fenton's awesome roar. Frank heard it too, obviously, but chose to ignore the warnings as he launched a high kick at Joe only to hop backwards on the standing leg to regain his balance as Fenton grabbed him hard by the shoulders. When Frank managed to stand on both his feet again, Fenton stood in front of him, effective blocking Joe and Frank from each other.

"Frank Hardy! Stop this childishness now!"

"I didn't start it! He did!" Frank pointed at Joe over Fenton's shoulders as he tried to barge through, "Tattletale!"

"Cheater bug!" Joe shot in reply but cowered at Fenton glanced sharply behind with lethal caution.

"Kids!" Laura emerged from the house, joining in the commotion, simultaneously securing her robe around her waist, "Listen to your dad and cool down!"

"What's there to cool down?" Frank was still glaring at Joe only that now, the shine came from unshed tears, "There's nothing left for me anymore! Nothing! He ruined everything! ARGH! Forget it!"

Throwing his hands in the air with vexation, Frank, under the watchful glower of Joe's incensed eyes, marched towards his Lexus to the chagrin of Laura who needed peace between everyone in the family like she needed air. Fenton simply let Frank go, seemingly annoyed by his eldest son atypical violent nature.

Laura jogged up to Frank and tapped his shoulder before he could slip away into his car.

"Honey, what's wrong? I'm sure there's a misunderstanding somewhere."

Frank shook his head, adamantly on the side of his mistaken anger.

"Sweetheart?"

"I'm not getting married." Frank whispered brokenly but the silence carried his melancholy loud and clear to everyone present. Though still teed off, Joe's heart almost cracked in pity for his brother.

"What?" Laura and Fenton exclaimed in unison. Fenton threw his head back, looking questioningly at Joe with worried eyes. Joe hung his head low, knowing he had done nothing wrong but, by his unwilling involvement, couldn't help the sudden pangs of guilt which only served to aggravate his antagonism. Looking up with his eyes, Joe saw that Frank had slowly turned around, his crestfallen expression announced the depths of remorse drowning him.

"Callie's telling her parents tomorrow, just like I'm supposed to." He shrugged despondently, "Makes no difference if you guys know it now or when the sun rise. I'm going home."

"Don't go. This is your home too. Stay here tonight and let us talk about it." Laura slipped her hand through Frank's and nudged her son, "We can solve this."

"It's too late, mom. It's too late. I'm sorry, Joe." Now that the madness had passed, Frank was the composed, mature brother again but Joe didn't feel generous enough to patch up though he really felt for his brother's predicament.

_He didn't want me to come home. Jerk! _

"It's not your fault. If you want, I'll let you hit me back."

"We'll see." Joe replied sounding colder than he would like as he nonchalantly ambled back pass Fenton and Frank back into the house, feeling torn between wanting to comfort his brother and desiring for him to feel extremely small for the unwarranted blows and infuriatingly insensitive words.


	18. 17

Chapter 17

Psychedelic Hollow

Itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"What came over you? I wouldn't expect this wild display from Joe and definitely never from you." Fenton eyed him grimly, sitting down on the austere armchair opposite Frank from across the massive study table. Frank slumped in his chair and dropped his head into his opened palms, breathing heavily while hoping his dad would go easy on him.

"Let's settle this one thing at a time. What's this between you and Callie?"

Frank rubbed his face, exhaling audibly, "Nothing."

"Nothing? I thought I heard you saying that Callie and you aren't getting married anymore."

"Right dad. Nothing. There's nothing between me and her now." 

Fenton hunched over his desk, frowning with some annoyance, "Look, son, this is no time to go tight-lip on us. If you need help or anything…"

"I know, Dad. But this is my problem and I can handle it myself. Maybe we are still so young and we have never been extremely serious with anyone else. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be." Frank dismissed his father's concerns with a wave of his hand. He was aware that it was shame which was constricting his chest, making it difficult for words to flow out of his heart. And he knew his stubborn pride had bottled up his need for a confidante. But cognizance of his weaknesses was all he had- he still could not open up to his father and admit his failings. How could he? He was their perfect son- the one who did no wrong. And he didn't want that image to crumble for their sake. Already much damage had been done by his willful rage.

_"I wouldn't expect this wild display from Joe and definitely never from you."_

 "I'm really okay."

Fenton eyed his shrewdly before his mien relaxed. Letting out a sigh in capitulation, he unlocked a shelf beneath his desk and drew out a dusty, velvet ring box. Opening the lid slowly and almost too cautiously, he took out an antique ring set with a brilliant-cut diamond bordered by tiny sapphire stones. Smiling admiringly at its dazzling luster, he presented the ring to Frank who took it, a little baffled.

"What's this?"

"Unless you and I are both blind, it's a ring." Fenton drawled wryly, "An antique ring. It belonged to your great grandmother. Your mom wanted one of her own so I didn't use it for her proposal ring. But we both think such history should be handed down. It was supposed to be a gift from us to you and Callie when the both of you are married."

Frank smiled cynically, placing the ring back into the velvet box, "I sense a story."

"Only the simplest story of love. Your great grandmother and great grandfather marriage didn't come easy. Her family was rich and already betrothed to someone else. But she fell in love with your great grandfather and, despite her family's objections as his family wasn't of the same status as theirs, she fought for her freedom and her love. They were together in the end and that also explains why we are not wealthy." Fenton eyed the ring wistfully before raising a brow at Frank.

"She fought for her love and lived the creed of, 'you should only be with the person you can't live without.'. The ring signifies it. You see, if Callie is meant to be yours, she will be but you have to put in effort. If you don't fight for her and she turns out to be the girl you cannot live without, then you will have deserved not having her by your side. I'm not saying Callie is the girl of your dreams. It can be anybody. So I'm letting you keep this ring as a reminder that your wife should be as important to you as your life. You must be worthy of this ring or you'll have to return it to me."

"I don't even want it in the first place." Frank muttered, closing the lid. He pushed the box towards his father and leaned back against the seat, "It's your ring. You keep it. You and mom are worthy of it surely."

"No, son. You don't get what I mean. You want the ring, of course. Not the ring per se but what it symbolizes." Fenton smiled at him wisely, "Who doesn't want the joy that comes with true love?"

"Dad…" Frank fidgeted in his seat, rather uncomfortable to be discussing the meaning of love with his father. Fenton raised a hand up to halt his protest.

"Think about it, Frank. I don't know what's wrong between you and Callie and I know how stubborn you can be when it comes to hoarding woes and worries. However, I know she means a lot to you for you to have lost control the way you did. Let the story of the ring be a guide for you. In life, there aren't many things worth fighting for that are as important as love itself."

Grudgingly, just to stop his father from spouting lines inspired by afternoon re-runs of soap operas, Frank swiped the box and stuffed it into his pants' pocket, standing up as he spoke next. "Okay. I will think about it. Dad, can I crash in here for the night? I'm in no mood to drive." 

"Of course. The couch's all yours."

"Thanks." Frank stretched himself, unable to help a yawn which almost split his cheeks. "And now you have a bigger problem."

"Hmm?" Fenton stood up as well, ready to turn in.

"You may have to plan on how you are going to tell Joe you're not showing favoritism by giving me this ring."

"Oh." Fenton wrinkled his nose, his arms akimbo. "Hmm. Well… hmm…."

"Good night, dad." Frank spun around, about to exit the room when Fenton suddenly broke away from his train of thoughts and called out from behind.

"And don't forget. You did beat up your brother. But I wouldn't worry about the physical assault as much as what you have said. You have to deal with that yourself."

_Yes, Dad. How can I forget it? What can I do? I didn't mean it but I can't take back spilled milk._

Frank paused for a moment, cleared his throat, and wordlessly left the study.

***

_It isn't in Joe's nature to tell on me behind my back. He will leave it to me to sort this out myself._

_But if it isn't him, then who?___

_And damn! Why did I shoot my mouth off like that?_

Frank gave up trying to drift away and sat up on the couch, looking down onto the floor while steadying his breathing in a bid to calm his noisy mind. His t-shirt, which he borrowed from his father, was plastered on his back, drenched in his sweat which wasn't a consequence of heat alone. Shaking his head, he glanced at the self-illuminating clock- at least two futile hours were wasted as he tossed and turned, trying to slip into slumber land. Making a mental note to drive back to his apartment before anyone woke up, he lethargically groped his way in the dark into the kitchen for a drink, his earlier misdeeds haunting him with the trepidation of having to initiative the patching up of things with all who he had hurt.

_How am I going to do it? Maybe I should just wait. That's right. Wait until…_

_Until he forgets about it?__ He's never going to forget about it. We are never going to forget about it._

He gulped down the drink and went out into the backyard for some fresh air. Ah, oxygen. Just what he needed to clear his mind for a little while. The tempting idea of escaping from his insurmountable troubles, even if it was just for a second or two, seemed so demandingly strong that he was reminded of Justin and Colin. Perhaps the two misguided youths had felt the same way he did then- the never-ending commentary of his failures replayed over and over again in his mind could very well catapult him onto a high speed lane and soon to a resonant crash.

_And then nothing.__ Nothing._

So they sought drugs to end their pain- to fill a hollow they couldn't understand. And surely they were only accelerating towards their doom with gradually diminishing hope of a detour unless they could brake in time. And he? He wasn't stupid. There were other ways, healthier ways, to achieve an ephemeral retreat before setting foot into reality again.

Other ways like a long vacation. Joe had his seven-year Sabbatical. It was perhaps time for Frank to leave everything behind and go somewhere to sort out his life, maybe obtain that Master or Doctorate, an ambition he had always played with but never really hankered after.

He looked up at the sky and let out a soft, cynical laugh. What was it about people looking up to the sky when they were shellac by their troubles? Sure, the universe was almost eternal and infinite, and he was but a tiny speck of dust compared to it. Nonetheless, the universe knew nothing of his existence and he wasn't in love with its galaxies, planets or stars. He was in love with Callie Shaw and Callie Shaw was his universe. That was gone. Aggravating matters, he had beaten up his brother and said the words that could only be borne out of a poisonous heart- a heart that was his, even if it was only for a wretched moment.

His brother was therefore, gone as well.

Blasted be the Universe. It didn't care about him. And he didn't care much for it. The whole world could be made up of only Earth or even just an island and he wouldn't give a damn. No matter how vast it was, looking up into the sky would not solve his problems. 

He had to solve them himself. With God's grace, maybe he could bring something good out of this mess. Another light caught his eyes, not those dancing sparkles from the stars or the subdued yellow of the moon. It was florescent, white and emanating from his brother's bedroom.

_So the kid's awake too._

_Wait, Joe isn't a kid anymore. He's an adult and he has a kid in every sense of the word…_

_Should I apologize now? He must be pacing up and down his bedroom- he always does it and it drove me silly each night he couldn't sleep because he would wake me up with the incessant footfalls…_

_Right.__ We used to be so close…_

_So close._

As much as Frank hated to admit it, he knew that there was some distance between his brother and him. They kidded around and he could feel the same old protective wings extending out from his back to cover his younger brother but somehow, something was missing. Something he couldn't put a finger to. Seven years. Joe was no longer a confidante he could spill everything out to. 

_"…Why did you have to come back anyway? You're always causing more trouble for everyone!"_

 His own words made him cringed.

Lost in his thoughts, it came as a shock to him when he realized that somehow, he had wandered all the way from the backyard to the front Joe room's door. How he managed to climb up the stairs in the dark without tripping he would never know. 

_Thud, thud, thud…_

The footsteps grew fainter then louder before it stopped. A soft creak marked the beginning of a few seconds of silence before the sounds of agitated footfalls started filling up the barrenness of the night again. Frank raised his hand to knock on the door but couldn't bring himself to do it. Joe would definitely be furious still and another explosion wasn't what he was looking forward to.

His hand fell limply by his side and he turned, about to walk away when he jumped at the sight of Hallie sticking her head out of her bedroom door. Her luminous eyes shining in the dark reminded him once again of the wrong he did his brother.

"Hello." Hallie greeted him quietly, rubbing her tired eyes, "I can't sleep. It's too noisy."

"I know." Frank whispered brokenly. Hallie took over his old room and she must have been woken up by Joe as well. The walls were too thin, "I can't sleep too."

"Why? Is it because you and Daddy fought?"

Frank approached her and bent over, ruffling her hair. "You saw everything?"

"I heard some noise so I went to the window and saw you and Daddy fighting. Why did you two fight? Did you break daddy's toy? Daddy's always angry when I break or lost his toys." Hallie questioned him out of inquisitiveness and some concern. Frank shook his head and smiled gently.

"No. I fought with your daddy because I was angry at him for something that he didn't do."

"If he didn't do it, why should you be angry? Or was he supposed to do it and he didn't?"

"It's a misunderstanding. I got angry at him which I shouldn't have and said some horrible things."

"Oh…" Hallie scratched her ringlets, "Then you should say sorry. Did you say 'crap' or ' SOB' to him?"

"Ahm, Hallie…"

"If you didn't, then maybe it's not so bad." Hallie fully exit from her bedroom and took his hand, "Come with me. When I make Daddy angry because I was naughty, I say sorry and it's okay. He's all smiling again."

"I can't say sorry to your daddy now. Maybe later." Frank patted the hand which was holding on to his but Hallie didn't let go. She tugged his hand harder and looked up at him earnestly.

"Isn't sooner better than later? Then you'll have more time to be friendly again instead of feeling bad… I know Daddy feels bad too, which is why he keeps walking and walking and walking- up and down, up and down…" She rolled her large eyes and pouted, "And waking me up!"

"Sometimes Hallie, it's not easy to say sorry… ahm… sooner." Frank couldn't argue with the wisdom in a child. However, for that moment, he was actually more predisposed towards jealously guarding his guilt. Joe needed time to cool down and maybe tomorrow, he would saunter into the office, smile at Frank, make some wisecrack and all would be forgiven without him having to take the agonizing initiative.

"It's easy to say sorry. Oh…oh. I got to go." Hallie released her hand and slipped inside her room, "Goodnight."

"It's okay, sweetie. Want to go down for a glass of milk or something?"

"No…" Hallie pointed behind him, "Got to go. Byebye! Got to sleep now!"

"Good." Joe's voice gave him a mild jolt. He turned around slowly and saw his kid brother in an oversized thin white t-shirt and shorts, looking at him expectantly. The light from Joe's room faintly illuminated the corridor, bathing the surrounds in ghostly, dimmed light. When he heard Hallie's room door close, he threw Joe a shaky smile and gestured vaguely around.

"Did we wake you up?"

"You know I didn't sleep a wink. It's too hot." Joe shook the front of his t-shirt to generate some mild breeze up his face, "Why are you loitering outside my room? You have something to say?"

"I, ahm…" Frank stretched to his full height and scratched the back of his head, "Hmm…"

"Nothing? Well then, goodnight. I'll see you in the office later." Joe spun around. Frank felt his chest twisting really badly but the desired words which could untangle the veins and muscles just couldn't find escape.

_"Isn't sooner better than later? Then you'll have more time to be friendly again instead of feeling bad…"_

"Wait, Joe… I have something to say."

Joe halted but didn't turn around. He placed his hands on his hips and simply waited.

"I guess… well, I didn't mean a thing I said… I mean, I did think that you have spilled the beans to Callie but I should have realized that you are not that kind of person. And as for… well… the other thing I blurted out…" Frank bit his lips and dropped his head. Apologizing was arduous on a hot summer's night.

"What thing? I don't recall anything." Joe turned around and shrugged cavalierly, "Good night."

"No, wait." Frank stretched his hand out as if by some invisible force, he could force Joe to relent, "You know what I said about you coming back and all…"

"Me coming back and causing more trouble for everyone. You didn't want me to come back." Joe stated, twisting his lips slightly, "You spoke from your heart as your mind isn't there to censor what you feel. So, I guess the truth is out. But I'm not going to pack my bags just because you don't want me here."

"No, I want you back home- here. I… Joe, let's talk in your room, shall we? I bet mom, dad and Aunt Gertrude have their ears pasted on their doors, listening to everything we say." Frank mustered up a smile and gave Joe a half-shrug, "What do you say, brother?"

Joe frowned at him, folding his arms, "Okay. But the walls are thin still so we'll have to speak quietly. Good night everyone! Go back to sleep!!"

Murmurs could be heard immediately and Frank could hear the pitter-patters of reluctant footsteps fading into the night. Smilingly, he nodded towards Joe's room and both brothers ambled inside silently.

"They never change." Frank started first, sitting down on a chair opposite Joe who had made himself comfortable cross-legged on his bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it against his chest.

"Yup. They pretend to leave us alone but there'll always be this metaphysical cord tied around our necks to their wrists."

"Right. Adults! They just want to poke their noses into everything."

Joe laughed lowly, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Then, as if he remembered that he was supposed to be angry, he pulled his lips down into a scowl again, glowering at Frank menacingly.

"You want to talk, so talk."

Even though Frank knew Joe's anger had already subsided, he still couldn't bring himself to easily apologize. It wasn't because he didn't think he was in the wrong. On the contrary, he knew that he was at fault and most deserving of any distress Joe's resentment towards him would cause. And because he was well aware of his sins, he found it extremely difficult to ask for forgiveness as he didn't think he earned it.

"Joe, I… I'm sorry."

"Truly sorry?  Like your intestines have all shriveled up, your tongue is twisted into a thousand twirls and your chest is smashed kind of sorry?"

Frank grimaced, "Gruesome…"

"I haven't talked about your stomach exploding inwardly and your toes all cut off… hmm… well.." Joe's lips thinned with contemplation, "That's gruesome…"

"Those and more. Maybe my eyebrow pulled out strand by strand with a pair of rusty tweezers." Frank raked his hair and put on a doleful look, "Forgive me, kiddo?"

Joe twisted his lips this way and that before his face fell, crushing Frank's heart. The mood became all somber and serious- no more jesting or grisly imageries to distract from the awful shadow that had befallen the brothers after the fight. Now their talk would start, or rather, become a proper picture rather than the sketches they doodled at random since Joe's return.

"I'm hurt by what you said, yes. But I take that it was anger talking rubbish so I'll try to forget about it. However, it pained me more that I don't know a single thing about you, Nancy and Callie- and that's huge! After what Nancy told me, after how Callie came by to interrogate me… I realize that there is a huge chunk of your life that I don't even know a thing about. It didn't use to be this way, Frank. We are brothers. You can tell me anything. Then it hit me…" Joe looked up at him, his bright eyes tapering with grim revelation, "That my hiatus has caused us to drift apart more than we will both like to admit."

Frank stared his brother for a prolonged second. Joe had taken the words right from his mouth. They had been skirting the aftermath of his protracted vacation for far too long and the sudden return to initial imminence was forced at times. He didn't know why but his eyes begun to tear- the distance- they had masked it up with slaps on the back, hugs, name-calling, scuffles and alike but it was there. 

"Hey, don't be such a pansy! I didn't say all those stuff to make you cry!" Joe grabbed his cotton blanket and handed it to Frank. "Here, you can use this to wipe your eyes. Gosh! You're an embarrassment to the male species!"

Not knowing how long had it been since Joe laundered his sheets and linens, Frank declined with a shake of his head, swiping his eyes with the back of his right hand, "It's okay. I guess it just hit me then. We are willing to die for one another but we can't confide in each other that much anymore."

"We can… maybe… maybe it was pride that force us to clam our mouth shut. I mean, I have to admit- I was too embarrassed about the failure of my marriage such that I didn't say a word. You had to hear it from Vanessa… a long time after it happened."

"Right. And I cheated on Callie, something a perfect man wouldn't do. Or at least, someone touted to be responsible and sensible all his life. It isn't easy for me to…" Frank let out a huge breath, feeling a burden off his back, "To tell someone, especially you, of my wrongdoings and the webs I've tangled myself in. I mean, I'm always chiding you about playing the field and here I am, breaking two wonderful girls' hearts."

"Hey, don't dethrone me as Casanova, bro.  You know I won't judge you. I don't approve of your actions but I won't judge you." Joe clapped his shoulder, smiling genuinely, "Really. I'm glad we finally admit that we do need to work on bridging that distance and be brothers again."

"We are always brothers, Joe. It doesn't change. Don't look at me like that- I don't have a choice either." Frank added the last bit laughingly when he saw the expression of aghast on Joe's face, "I was born first. You must have wanted me to be your elder brother so much that you jumped into mom's womb."

Joe stuck his thumb into his throat and gagged.

"C'mon, you know I speak the truth.  Forgiven?"

"Forgiven." Joe stood up and stretched his hands out, "We're probably a little too old for this but…"

Frank chortled, struggling up as his legs were a little numbed, and completed the brotherly embrace, thumping Joe's back hard a couple of times, "Nay, kiddo, we are never too old to be brothers and hug each other."

"Pansy. Don't worry about Callie, all right? One thing at a time, bro. If you need time off, just let me know. I can handle Justin's case alone." Joe pulled away, resting his hands on Frank's shoulders, "I will even ask Dad for help."

"It's all right. I'll just leave my shredded marriage plans till later. Justin's innocence comes first and now that he's lying in the hospital… it seems more urgent for us to get this finished. But Joe, after this case, after I settled things with Callie, do you think you can be on your own for a while?" Frank implored quietly, looking into his brother's eyes and hoping Joe could understand without much need for more words.

"You're planning on taking off? What if Callie and you patch up?"

"Even if we do, things will not be the same again." Frank stumbled over to Joe's bed and sank down into it, burying his face in his hands, "I need to take off for a while _for myself, Joe. Any later and I know I'm going to crash."_

"Frank…" Joe breathed, settling down beside him and draping an arm across his shoulders, "You don't have to take off. You can, I mean, talk to us, let us help. Let _me_ help. I know my absence had been tough on the family and you. And I know how you stress yourself up so much just to be perfect and how you tend to protect those your love _obsessively_. But you don't have to be… you just got to be you and learn to let go. Don't you see, Frank? We are not judging you. You are judging yourself and you're running away because you fear to meet our eyes."

Frank rubbed his temples, hunching over forward, "No, Joe. You're not totally right. I just want a break. Maybe I stress myself up too much or maybe I'm really escaping as the whole town will know about our shattered wedding bells. But I really want a break."

He didn't look at Joe but he knew Joe was beginning to understand. In silence, they accompanied each other for a few minutes, listening to the occasional songs of the crickets and the ticking of the alarm clock in Joe's room. Finally, Joe squeezed his shoulder.

"I understand, big bro." Joe began softly, "Go have a good rest. Tomorrow is going to be another long day. We owe it to our clients to be in tip-top condition of body and mind."


	19. 18

Chapter 18 edited

Psychedelic Hollow

Itsmeocean@hotmail.com
    
    The morning was cold, unfolding with a sorrowful wail. A certain chill numbed the bones as it paralyzed the mind. With each flame that extinguished forever, answers long sought were lost, never to be found again. Frank couldn't ignore the wringing of his heart as he watched his friend who was seated on the empty hospital bed- a bed which was already stripped of its linens, the warmth from the body lying on it before had already dissipated to become one with the air as the flesh would return soon to the earth.
    
    A light sleeper on most days, Frank woke up to his hand phone's beeps, announcing the receipt of a message. The moment he blurrily made out the contents, he quickly stumbled to his feet, rising from the mattress on the floor of Joe's room to rouse his brother who was sleeping like a log, sprawled on his bed with limbs dangling from the edges, dead to all worlds but his own.
    
    Joe had been irritated at being woken up so abruptly but turned shell-shocked soon after. And Frank had to repeat the news to him quietly for a couple of times before he regained composure. Then the two brothers hurriedly washed up and rushed to the hospital. Frank left a message for Nancy, being unable to contact her on her mobile phone.
    
    With Joe outside the intensive ward speaking to Con Riley, Frank remained with Conrad who couldn't leave the bed even though Justin's body was already sent to the morgue. Vacant black eyes like stagnant pools under the spell of midnight hid the roiling melancholy within, staring at opened palms lined now with regrets threading through the wrinkles- regrets prominent on the dumbfounded mien, dancing on the edges of the quivering lips.
    
    Neither of them had spoken a word. Frank was never comfortable with condolences when he had to dish them out to close friends and loved ones. He had many clichés readied on his tongue for all sorts of eventualities that dotted his line of work. Nonetheless, they were hollow. Conrad would never speak to his brother again, never see his face, never playfully ruffle the overgrown hair.
    
    No word of condolences would mollify even a minute measure of the pain.
    
    Standing by the door, unable to even move because the empathy was so great that he _glimpsed_ the agony Conrad was floundering in, he could only watch his friend dissolve into those wretched sobs that could cut a goliath to the size of a dwarf. Everyone was frail inside but not everyone could cry.
    
    He let his friend cry- he let his friend grieve. And he would just watch and be silent, letting Conrad know in silent companionship that he was not alone. That was what he was good at. That was the kindness he could show and Conrad needed.

***

Raising his head from his hands, Joe stared at the bare, white wall opposite him, his eyes wide opened and his jaws slacked. Con Riley had already left and Joe was alone outside the Intensive Ward, waiting for his brother. In the short time he came to know Justin, he grew to like the kid because in some ways, Justin reminded him of himself. And he had wanted to be a real friend to him, see that he didn't fall into the lure of drugs again. How did Frank do it? He knew Frank's solo cases without him involved deaths to some degree. _How did Frank do it?_ How did Frank ricochet from the sudden exit of the people involved in any of his cases and immerse himself in work again so quickly? Maybe this line would make him jaded too but despite the grief, he knew he would prefer to feel. Nonetheless, he wanted his brother to teach him how not to let such setbacks hinder the progress of the case because their clients depended on it- that was his job. And Justin, though dead, still deserved every effort to clear his name, maybe more.

His eyes welled up- Justin didn't have a chance. And he did miss the young man who really had a good heart.

Dabbing his tears quickly away when he spotted Frank emerging from the intensive ward with Conrad trudging behind him, his black eyes downcast, Joe rose from the plastic chair and stuck his hands into his pockets. His brother didn't stop when he passed him, only swiped his head towards the exit, indicating that it was time to leave the hospital. Joe hurried over and whispered into Frank's ears when he caught up and walked alongside him, his gut feeling announcing with a sudden shortness of breath that it was unwise if Conrad should hear of the news that Con Riley informed him of earlier.
    
    "Colin's bailed by his mother and somehow, some power Marcie weld over Colin is forcing him to remain clammed up."
    
    "Power Marcie weld over Colin? Maybe it's Colin's fear itself." Frank whispered back, occasionally stealing glances behind to make sure that Conrad was still behind them but out of earshot, "I'll send him back home since he's obviously in no shape to ride his Harley and… I guess he's really alone. We have two avenues to follow now since Nan hadn't replied me. I want you to go and question Harold Wain- find out if he knows anything about the pills since it's his garage- just to cover bases. Find out more about Colin as well, like what can probably prompt Colin to talk… stuff like that and anything else you may think of. I'll meet you over at Marcie Brown's villa by the cliff and we'll carry on from there."
    
    "And Nan?"
    
    "I messaged Nan to call you if she needs to contact any of us…" Frank eyed him oddly, possibly noting his apprehensiveness, "I don't mean anything… it's just that I don't want to be disturbed because Conrad only has me as a friend now."
    
    "Okay, I understand." Joe replied, wondering if the phrase was sounding old and routine. "I'll go see Harold and you go be with Conrad."
    
    "Just to make sure he doesn't do anything silly." Frank clapped his back before slowing down his steps to allow Conrad to draw level with him, "I'll send you back, Conrad."
    
    "It's all right. I'll go back b myself. I hired you to do a job- finish it." Conrad stopped in mid-stride and bore his gaze piercingly into Frank's eyes then Joe's. Drawing out a brown envelope from his back pocket, he passed it to Frank who eyed it suspiciously. 
    
    "What's this?"
    
    "Payment. I went to the bank but with Justin's condition, it slipped my mind to pass it to you. I checked out your rate from the internet and I think it's all there. As for the bail, I think Justin's death wouldn't stop you from retrieving it back."
    
    "Normally our clients' pay after we get the job done," Frank half-lied. Joe knew then that Frank had no intention to seek recompense from Conrad because, if the businessman in Frank was to surface, he would have accepted half the imbursement as deposit. The dark-haired man handed the money back to Conrad who shook his head vehemently. 
    
    "No, Frank…" The hardened steel in Conrad's reply, forging steadily into a fine tip dagger by the fires of vengeance which razed behind those deep, dark eyes, sent a shiver down Joe's spine. "I pay you in full now so you have no choice but to clear my brother's name. No choice at all."


	20. 19

Chapter 19

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Psychedelic Hollow

_"Hi." Callie stood outside her room, her mien a picture of icy coolness. A chilly air surrounded the two young women and __Nancy__, overcoming her discomfiture, moved aside to let Callie pass._

_"I'm sorry to call you so suddenly… I'm sure you're quite busy…" Callie added as she walked in, eyeing her laptop and the pile of internet and FBI database research on thedressing table, "But you know something? I don't think I care." She spun around, her hands on her hips._

_"Look, __Nancy__. I guess Frank would be flinging his hand phone against the wall right now. I heard your conversation with him in the car this morning."_

_Nancy__ blinked, rather taken aback. Yes, Frank was talking to someone on his cell phone before she barged into his car. And if Callie heard everything…_

_Her heart skipped a beat. The polite smile wiped from her lips, she shut the door gently behind her and gestured for Callie to take a seat on the armchair by the window while she sat on the edge of the bed. There was a tensed spell of silence and she didn't know if Callie had wanted her to start or that she too was struggling to continue with this conversation. The enormity of the situation- no longer a high school love triangle or some secret college betrayal- hit her then. Bayport was a bad idea. Frank Hardy was a bad idea._

_At the same instance, they both looked up from their own thoughts to face each other. __Nancy__ could see the hurt behind those hazel eyes and knew she had contributed to it. But her heart was broken as well. They were so opposite and yet, so similar for they both fell for the same man in the very worst way and there could be no comparison between their love for Frank Hardy._

_"I guess I'll start first…" Callie began awkwardly, the initial gumption lost to the reality of the painful knots they were bounded with, "I know you are my peer so… well… during our second year in college, sometime in Fall, were you and Frank a couple? Or were you both already an item before then? Please don't lie to me. You can't say you didn't have the conversation with him this morning in the car and I know very well I'm not suffering from dementia such that I would just imagine things."_

_Fall. Second year of college. Frank broke up with Callie so he would stop cheating on her. __Nancy__ decided that half-truths were perhaps the best in this case._

_"In Fall."___

_Callie laughed shortly and sharply. "If I hadn't done my homework or did some Math, I will believe you. But this lie you told just ascertain everything I've discovered. I remembered in college, he told me he wanted to a break as he thought he found something he wanted to pursue. I thought it was some lofty ambition or dream for even before then, I could see that he was distracted by something ever present behind his eyes... I never knew it would be you. I have what I wanted now." She exhaled heavily and stood up. Nancy couldn't meet her eyes but if they were to analyze and dissect, the truth would be that the man they loved and thought was perfect, had failed the both of them by his atypical fickle-mindedness._

_"I'm sorry, Callie." She whispered as Callie walked past her for the door._

_"No, Nancy. You shouldn't be. Frank should be the one sorry. He was the one who lied to us." Callie muttered and seconds later, __Nancy__ heard the door closing behind her. In her quest for love, she had neglected the factor that someone was going to get hurt and that someone was Callie, definitely an innocent party in this mess._

_Without the need for clairvoyance, __Nancy__ knew in the end, three people were going to be scarred forever by this episode. Everything would come to naught for if Callie broke up with Frank, there was no way she could rekindle the flames again, knowing just how complicated the baggage lugged by the three of them was._

***

Nancy splashed cold water against her face in a bid to dissolve away the sticky webs of the night before. She had slept long but hadn't slept well- the research and Callie's visit had done their best to drain her of all her energy such that she was too exhausted for the trip to dream land. Brushing her strawberry blonde hair, she tried to smile but couldn't. Frank lingered behind in her eyes and with the past between them weighing heavily down on her, she was unhappy; very unhappy.

It was a good thing she had work- her panacea for woes. Strangely, stress was therapeutic for her. She would die an old maid, someone who had dedicated her life to fighting crime, seeking out truths and left herself no time for romance.

"So, Nancy Drew. You have officially broken up your friendship with the Hardy Boys. Today will be different. Frank may not want to ever speak to you again. You can't blame him, but you do hate him so." She spoke to her reflection. Setting her brush down on the glass shelf above the basin, she tightened her robe around her waist and went out into her room to change.

_And love you._

Resolved to disallow her own personal feelings hinder the progress of her work, she breathed steadily in and out and counted to ten. Very interesting facts had been uncovered last night about Tobias Anderson- correlations which were too much of a coincidence to ignore.

Picking out a pair of jeans and a practical button down blouse, she dressed quickly and for a moment wondered if she should tell the Hardys of her findings or just let Con Riley in on them, knowing he would somehow find a way to relay the information to the brothers. However, as she retrieved her hand phone from her dressing table, she knew she worried for nothing. Frank had messaged her early in the morning, about two hours ago. Justin was dead.

_No…_

A minute of respectful silence later, she grabbed her briefcase with her notes and left the hotel room. Frank, in his message, told her that he was going to accompany Conrad Daye for a while and if she had any need to contact them, she could call on Joe. And she would do exactly that.

***

Joe pestered the cab driver to drive as fast as he could to the hotel. Nancy was already waiting by the porch, leaning against his Land Rover. On his way to the hotel, despite the overhanging gloom of death, he thought about the kiss between Nancy and him. In their teens, such physical attraction would seem almost incestuous as he had regarded Nancy as more of an older sister than a peer. When the numbers were smaller, a year seemed much more significant. Now that they were in their twenties, it made no difference and in a way, he welcomed that chemistry, as futile as it was. It distracted him from Vanessa. Thoughts of his ex-wife and the burden of single parenthood and work could easily land him into the doldrums. Somehow, the attraction he had for Nancy somewhat eased the frustration he couldn't articulate. Paying the driver who was sufficiently annoyed already, he got out of the cab and waved at Nancy who threw him a lop-sided smile.

"Hey, good morning. Thanks for your car." Nancy smiled and slipped inside the passenger side of the vehicle. Joe scowled while he climbed into the driver's seat, but was happy to be acquainted with his baby once again.

"It's no car, Drew. It's a Land Rover. And it's already lunchtime, not morning."

"Hmm, so I see… what's the bruise doing on your jaw?" Nancy eyed him with some concern, "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing." Joe mumbled, engaging the gear. "I fell."

"Right." Nancy wasn't buying it but neither did she pursue the matter. "So, where are we going?"

"Frank wants me to check out on Colin's dad. Oh, and Colin's out on bail… so we'll be meeting Frank at Marcie Brown's villa later in the afternoon."

"Harold Wain doesn't seem to be involved…" Nancy wrinkled her nose. "I have more information though. I have spoken to the warehouses owner's wife and sister. His sister's fiancé, a guy named Tobias Anderson, knows about the warehouses and, according to Maria, McCain's wife, Anderson's is a rather questionable character."

"Is it?" Joe remarked, keeping his eyes on the road, "Why?"

"Well, I went to Lisa's house, that's McCain's sister, and realized that she's a homebody. Anderson is a salesman but their house is definitely too much for his income, not to mention that rock on her finger. And it would appear that McCain's business isn't doing well though his wife isn't exactly forthcoming with the information. I had to deduce it. I think that McCain struck a deal with Anderson for the use of his warehouses. McCain may or may not know about Anderson's true intent for the premises but he did purposely hide the fact that Anderson knew about the warehouses from the police when we asked."

"Is Lisa McCain married to this Anderson guy?"

"No, they are engaged but cohabiting together." Nancy replied, "Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Just asking… I want to get all the relationships cleared up, that's all." Joe pulled his lips tightly, "But I still think we should pay Harold Wain a visit. I just want to know if the drugs belong to him and Colin somehow found it. Colin wouldn't tell where he got the drugs from…"

"Does Colin know that Justin's dead?"

His chest muscles clenched up painfully once more. "No…" he mumbled, "I think not yet."

"Maybe that will get him to speak." Nancy said, a quiet anger in her voice. "I did some background check on Anderson. It seemed like every town he stayed in, there have been cases of youths dying from club drugs' reaction. In his previous town, there was two suspected case of Rofomyn. And another thing- I remember you mention something Justin told you- about the rave parties being held every Friday. Well, it seemed like McCain and his sister had this bi-weekly dinner thing going on before and Anderson, when he became Lisa's fiancé and accompanied her to the dinners over at the McCains, stayed on for very long before he would leave. One of the days during the week that they held this dinner is Friday… maybe Anderson, before he could persuade McCain to let him use the warehouse for his illicit activities, had to keep the McCains occupied just in case Kevin decided to pop by his warehouse for a rare visit. "

"We should pay Mr. Anderson a visit then…" Joe stopped at the red light, looking at Nancy questioningly, "Where does this Lisa McCain stay again? I think we will go follow up on your lead and I'll get Frank to check out Harold Wain, since he was the one who wanted to question Colin's dad,"He smiled mirthlessly, "This is a major breakthrough, Nan. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. It is my job, after all. I'll direct you to Lisa McCain's house. She stays in Tucan's Street but I'm not very sure how to reach there from here."

Joe stared at her blankly. He had no idea where or what was Tucan's Street- probably a newly named suburb in his absence. Stopping by the curb, he messaged Frank about the change in plans first before taking out Bayport's street map to trace out the most direct route which would lead them there. With Nancy's assistance, they reached Lisa McCain's house within another twenty minutes. When she opened the door in answer to their knocks, Joe was pleasantly surprised that she was pretty cute- not gorgeously pretty but cute in that friendly, approachable manner.

"Hi! It's you again!" Lisa smiled widely at Nancy and then Joe, "Who's this?"

"This is my friend, Joe. Lisa, is your fiancé in?" Nancy looked inside from over Lisa's shoulders as if trying to spot someone else in the house, "I think I may need his help."

"Toby? No, he is not in… he wouldn't be home for quite some time. Business trip and all." Lisa twirled a lock of curly hair around her finger, pursing her lips contemplatively before her expression brightened, "But I can leave him a message for you! Do you want me to?"

_Is she too bored that she's excited about taking down messages? _Joe pondered as he observing her with the casual eye, _But__ she is rather cute… I wonder how old is she… hmm…_

"He's really not in, Lisa? When will he back? Did he tell you specifically?" Nancy pressed on but Lisa seemed oblivious to the demanding tone. She merely shrugged and gazed at the detectives apologetically.

"I don't know. He goes on trips for days to get new stocks for his sideline- he sells healthcare products and they are, well, very sellable. I help him sell some too. You want to see the samples? We have Vitamin Cs, calcium pills, extract of ginkgo nuts… that's good for brains. I've started taking them and I think I grew a little smarter…" Lisa let out a soft giggle, "I'm quite dumb, you see. Kevin calls me an airhead all the time."

Joe grinned at her, knowing that he had better suppress the laughter building up pressure in his throat, _Yup. Bingo. Hit the nail on the head…_

_Or are you faking it?_

"It's all right. I'm pretty healthy at this point in time. But thanks anyway. I'll pop by again. Did he say where he went?"

"No, Miss Drew… he didn't say. But sometimes he buys me t-shirts and I have this from the Hard Rock Café in New York City. Maybe he went to NYC?" Lisa beamed sweetly, tapping the side of her head, "See, I told you I was getting smarter."

From the corner of his eyes, Joe thought he saw Nancy's eyes widening slightly when Lisa mentioned the NYC. However, when he did a double take, she looked as inscrutable as before again.

"Yes, you are, Lisa. I'll be back again. Take care." 

"Bye bye, Nancy. And you too, Joe, though you don't really talk much." Lisa bade them farewell, "Bye bye!"

"Do you think she's faking it, Nan?" Joe commented when they were out of Lisa's earshot, "Maybe she's in cahoots."

"Maybe, but we have nothing on her and she's very accommodating…"

"If she was that… well… bimbotic, I'll think twice before making her my girlfriend if I'm a crook." Joe slipped inside the vehicle, an amused smile creeping up the sides of his lips, "But she's cute though. Is that what they say about brains and looks are inversely related?"

"Are you saying that I'm not pretty?" Nancy threw him a lethal glare as she buckled up. Joe shook his head and winked at her cheekily.

"Nay, I'm just saying that you're very smart."

"Shut up and drive, Hardy. You're so handsome too."

"Thank you. I'm always the exception to the general rule." Joe couldn't resist ribbing Nancy, "But I think you're a girl who follows the rules."

Nancy folded her arms in feigned anger, "I have been known to break a few."

"Are you just trying to get me to say that you're pretty?" Joe drawled, "You know I can't tell a lie."

"Forget it, all right? Just drive." Nancy dismissed his ribbings with a careless wave of her hand. The mood turning somber once again, Joe decided to investigate the shadow fleeting across Nancy's eyes when he hit a red light.

"Nan, is there something that you know which you are not sharing with me and Frank about your case? I mean, when Lisa mentioned NYC, you did look … well… I don't know… like it hits you with some new understanding or insights…"

"Right. New insights- like knowing he most probably went to NYC." Nancy answered his questioning look with an arch of her brows, "Why?"

"Oh, I just thought, never mind."

"Joe, I think I will be in a better position to offer some views and, as you put it, _insights when we meet up with Frank later and obtain more pieces of the puzzles, all right? I won't deliberately hide anything from you two." Nancy smiled at him genuinely with that familiar warmth in her sky blue eyes, resembling the old Nancy Drew he knew in his teens once again, "Okay?"_

"Okay, I'll try to understand that too… see… I'm a pretty understanding guy of late." Joe absentmindedly touched his bruised jaw, thinking about just how much Frank's predicament was training him into becoming a big-hearted and _understanding man. Nancy frowned at him and gently pushed his hand away._

"Let me look at that… it looks really bad."

"Oh, it's nothing. The door was hard and so are my bones."

"I thought you said you fell?" Nancy caught his slip immediately and abruptly, he jerked his attention towards her. The lights had turned green but there was no other vehicle commuting on the road they were at so he didn't bother moving on. 

"I ahm, I did! I fell on my door which was on the floor because I took away the hinges and lay, ahm, it down on the floor." Joe slapped the side of his head and winced. _Is that the best lie you can come up with, Joe? This is Nancy Drew! She can unravel the most tightly spun web and you throw her such a sloppy tale. Maybe you need some gingko nuts!_

"Right…" Nancy muttered sardonically, "You can rub a hard boil egg on that. I use that method to heal bruises fast and you can eat the egg later, so you treat your hunger as well." 

As she spoke, she started massaging the afflicted area gently with her thumb, her eyes filled with reproaching concern, most likely drawing the conclusion that he was just a klutz. Whatever it was that she was thinking, her action and the closeness caused Joe's heart to skip a little. It felt really pleasant and all fuzzy in the tummy to be pampered by a girl again. "Any teeth broken?"

"Nope, no teeth broke. Once it heals, I'll still be so devilishly good-looking, not that I'm not now. I mean I'm so good looking that a bruise is not going to affect my good-lookingness much…" 

"You're still as egoistic as ever, Hardy." She chuckled lowly, giving his shoulder a sharp, affable shove. Suddenly, the humor extinguished from her eyes and she looked away, staring out of the window, "Can I confide in you?"

"Ahm…" Joe dragged, torn between wanting to be a friend and yet, wary about being burdened with more dirty secrets. However, Nancy didn't notice his discomfiture and it seemed like the lack of a definite answer didn't bother her in the least.

"Callie came by last night to my hotel room. You remember me running out of your Land Rover to slip into Frank's car? I'm surprised but thankful you don't hold what happened yesterday against me."

"Callie visited you?" Joe was sufficiently curious and concerned, "Did she ask you anything about you and Frank?"

Nancy turned and looked at him quizzically, "Yes, how do you… well…" She pulled her lips down, blinking hard a couple of times, "It's pretty obvious, huh?"

"Yes, it is. What did you and her talk about?"

"She asked me about my relationship with Frank in college. I guessed she found out that Frank was dating me behind her back for a spell before he actually broke up with her. I tried to, well, temper the truth but she knew. She didn't pressure the answer out from me but I can tell that she already knows and was just trying to see if I would ascertain her information for her." Nancy pushed her fringe back as her features crumbled, "I'm a lousy liar when it came to that. I mean, she already heard the conversation I had with Frank in his car…"

"What? How did she hear it? And what did you and Frank say?" Joe was rather baffled- Frank, Nancy and Callie's relationship wouldn't constitute a love triangle. Nope, it was more like a love polygon and he had lost track of everything. Part of him wanted to just tell Nancy to keep everything to herself but he couldn't help wanting to discover the truth behind Callie's knowledge as well.

"One question at a time. I don't know how she heard it, maybe Frank didn't disconnect her call properly. I did kind of barged in… As for what I and Frank discussed…" She grimaced and sucked in a deep breath, "Let's just say that I'm not feeling very good about myself."

"Love makes us do silly things, Nan. We are not saints… don't worry. Maybe you did Frank a favor. Maybe he isn't meant to be with Callie…" Joe bit his lips as Nancy's expression turned even more melancholic. Man, he sucked at consoling people, "Well, you know what I mean. If they are meant to be together, your presence wouldn't change a thing…" 

"What if they are meant to be together and I blew it?" Nancy muttered glumly, "He was sure about her before I arrived. Maybe I shouldn't even have come here in the first place…"

Joe didn't want to badmouth Frank in front of anyone and thus, kept silent as he drove off. Deep within him, the answer to Nancy's question was very clear.

_If he was sure about her, __Nan_, like I said, your appearance wouldn't change a single thing.__

"Oh, and Nancy?"

"Yes?"

Joe took his shades from the dashboard and slipped them over his eyes, concentrating on the road simultaneously, "I don't blame you for yesterday."

Nancy patted his lap and the both of them slipped into an easy, friendly silence.__


	21. 20

Chapter 20

Psychedelic Hollow

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"So you don't come in here anymore?" Frank stood in the middle of the garage where Joe found Justin and Colin bewildered in their psychedelic haze. Invisible cobwebs clung onto his skin and tickled his nose, irritating him to no ends. In one corner, a small wreck stripped of its headlights, side mirrors and missing one backdoor lay close to disintegrating. This place reeked of neglect and, probably, it was only utilized for private functions akin to that which Joe intruded into a little too late. Harold Wain, a man floating in another realm altogether, shook his head slowly, his response retarded and careless.

"Do you know of Colin's activities inside here?"

"I don't know… kids… let them do as they please. It's not too good to be too controlling… Colin doesn't like… I think he doesn't like questions… I don't like to ask questions too…" Harold swept his long, sparse fringe out of his eyes and smiled at Frank mildly, "He doesn't bother me."

"You're his dad. Surely you know a little more about what he does?" Frank asked piercingly, becoming increasingly annoyed not only with the garage dilapidated state but also those vapid blue-gray eyes that were unfocused and preoccupied the entire time. Frank had woken up the whole neighborhood with his incessant knockings and hollering, knowing from the moving shadows behind the curtains that Harold Wain was at home. When Harold finally answered the door, Frank was already showered with a variety of curses.

Not too bothered by Frank's none-too-subtle chastising, Harold Wain merely shrugged and smiled.

"Colin's a heavy user of drugs, Harold…" Frank begun slowly, knowing in that short time that the man's mind was like a sieve. Also, he couldn't trust himself to speak quickly lest he work up into a rage, infuriated by the man's cavalier attitude towards parenting, "And now he's might just well go to jail because his best friend, Justin, had died from the pills that Colin might have offered him."

"Oh, what kind?" Harold asked indifferently. Frank stared at him, incredulous.

"What kind of what?"

"Drugs…"

"Club drugs." Frank elaborated. Maybe Harold was finally taking some interest in Colin's predicament, "Drugs like Ecstasy, Ketamine, LSD…"

"Never heard of them…maybe LSD…" Harold scratched the back of his balding head, his confused mien melting into a goofy smile, "I don't really do them anymore… but I used to smoke some weed."

_More like barrels of weed!_

Frank fumed, unable to hide his blatant disgust for Harold, "They are the reason why Colin, _your son_, may be put in jail for a very long time! Don't you see? Your son may be charged with manslaughter or even worse if they establish that he _gave the drugs to Justin who's __dead! The police are having a field day with the charges they can lay on him!"_

"Jail? No…" Harold slanted smile grew wider and he patted Frank on the shoulder, "Colin's a good kid. He's very quiet, especially when I have a headache. It's nice to have him around sometimes… though I don't really know if he's at home or not…"

Either the man was brain-damaged or he had some serious issues with denial and fantasy. Whatever it was, Frank had no sympathy. He really wanted to shake the rocks out of the man's head and the only thing stopping him was the knowledge that his energy would be better spent elsewhere.

"Can I look around your house and the garage?"

"Sure, go ahead. Just don't make too much noise… I think I'm going to sleep." Harold yawned, "It's been a long day. Good night…"

_Night? It's daytime! Hello! The sun is high up in the sky! It's only slightly past _noon___!_

Swallowing his displeasure, Frank called out after the man who was very languidly making his way out of the garage back to his house just beside it, "Harold? How do I get into your house later?"

The vacant man turned around slowly, furrowing his brows before wincing, as if thinking pained him, "Oh, I figure you can just walk in… no one ever broke in anyway and I can't remember where are my keys… . It is under my carpet? Do I have a carpet?"

"Are you even a car mechanic?" Frank was certain, by the dust collected on all the rusty equipment that this workshop had lost its purpose eons ago. Harold snapped his head up and grinned slowly.

"I think I once was. Then my left hand hurts too much… So I switched to painting. I only need my right hand and not too much strength… Marcie thought it'll be good too. Have you met her? She's really a doll…"

"So you're an artist?" 

"Yup… but I don't know where my completed paintings anymore are… I think I lost the key too. They are somewhere in my studio… I don't know. I can't bear to finish those I started nowadays. It's such a shame to finish beautiful things." Harold shook his head sadly before walking away, apparently lost in his own thoughts. Frank shot mental daggers at Harold's back, his patience tested. His life had become a sticky mess with vastly different and important situations clamoring for time and energy he didn't have- the bedlam his love life had suddenly morphed into, his client's death and his client brother's pressure, and now, he just had a pretty mentally exhausting encounter with someone who seemed like he didn't even exist in the real world.

_Focus, Hardy. _

Surveying the garage quickly, deducing that Colin must have been exploiting his dad's condition to carry out his wayward desires in the garage with no fear of reprimands even if he was caught. Harold would most likely grin at his son vacantly or worse, participate.

He wore his gloves and took out a folded paper bag from his pant's pocket, clucking his tongue at the lingering sentiments after making acquaintance with Harold. The police had pretty much searched through this garage. Nonetheless, one of the lessons learned from his experience was that the first look was almost always not enough.

Checking through the cabinets, cupboards and drawers of rotting workbenches, the only fruits of his labor were clouds of dust mushrooming in his face. Grimy walls, cool to the touch, didn't reveal loose bricks or hollow, concealed niches. The concrete floor was solid every available inch he could search and, climbing the table so he could reach the overhead light, he uncapped it to see if Colin had hidden anything inside- efforts which were in vain. A good couple of hours later drenched in sweat, his eyes tearing and his nose running, Frank cracked his muscles and gave the garage another once over, unwilling to give up. This was most probably Colin's favorite hang-out and a hunch told Frank that the garage was important. 

_"Thanks for being here, Frank. But I can handle things from here now on. You just do your job."_

_"If you need help with the funeral… you know…"_

_"I'm okay. I just need to be alone for a while."_

Frank sighed, a migraine pounding at his temples. Conrad had no idea just how much pressure he was putting on him. He had multiplied the number days he had expected Frank would be working on the case with the highest daily rates and left a note in the envelope saying that the extras would be established at the end, regardless of success or failures, more importantly, in Conrad's own words, 'Despite the nature of the truth."

Not wanting to leave and leave the niggling hunch hanging, and also having no confidence in depending on solely Nancy and Joe's progress in the case, Frank inhaled in deeply, regretting immediately when he was hit by a series of dry sneezes. He scanned the garage once again and his gaze drifted to the collapsing wreck. The rectangular hollows left behind by the missing headlights and its pathetic condition reminded him once again of Justin. Drugs and reckless youth had taken away too much life such that when he looked into Justin's eyes, he often felt like he was looking into an emptiness so horrifying depressing.

_Hollows…_

His heart pounded with a new adrenaline. Striding purposefully towards the wreck, he knelt down and fished around the inside of the right socket. Not disheartened after the search proved futile, he did the same for the left. Smiling with a quiet satisfaction, he retrieved a small key stuck inside on the top part of the crevice together with a small piece of paper which had a set of numbers scrawled on it with distracted, sloppy handwriting.

_"Yup… but I don't know where my completed paintings anymore are… I think I lost the key too. They are somewhere in my studio..."_

The grim smile stretched into a thin, tight line.

***

"A new partner, Agent Drew? It doesn't pay to be fickle." Marcie Brown's stern voice filled the room with detestable authority. Joe, wary of his duties, smiled widely and drew out his name card, handing it to Marcie from across the coffee table.

"I'm sorry. Maybe we are not properly introduced in the hospital. Nancy's not changing partners. Frank's my brother and partner. We cover each other when the other is occupied. Nancy's collaborating with our firm, not the firm's individuals."

Marcie took his card, glimpsed through it casually before setting it down on the low table, "Hmm, I didn't know the FBI takes kindly to private investigators nowadays."

"If it works to both our advantage, why not?" Joe countered, keeping that friendly smile he didn't feel switched on, "We're here to have a chat with Colin and the police told us you bailed him out."

"Yes, I did. But he's not here."

Nancy spoke up in all seriousness, "You know something, Mrs. Brown? Colin will better serve himself if he co-operates. The odds stacked against him don't look very good. No amount of money or pressure is going to get him out of trouble. We're asking you to be fair to your son. Maybe it's good for him, in another manner all together, that he tells us everything he can to help his friend." 

"Who's dead. What good can Colin do now for his dead friend?"

"You cannot stop us from speaking with Colin, Mrs. Brown."

"Yes, I can. He will not speak to anyone but his lawyer." Marcie eyed Nancy lethally, "And Colin himself subscribe to that notion. The drugs are definitely from Justin. Colin told me that himself."

"He did?" Joe asked, the disbelief in his tone resonated with a clarity no one could miss, "And did you volunteer this information to the police?"

"No. Not yet." Marcie replied steadily, "Because Colin just told me. When trouble strikes, everyone goes back to their mothers."

"Nice to hear the both of you are on speaking terms again. The episode at the hospital had me worried for a moment." Nancy remarked cynically. Marcie smiled at her coldly, gesturing to her cup of tea which had turned cold.

"Do you want a fresh cup of tea? Or can I tell my servants to clear the table?"

"Marcie, maybe you can set another place for me." Frank strode into the lounge and sat down beside Joe. Joe shifted to one side closer to Nancy, allowing his brother more space on the couch, and arched a curious brow at his brother who had so suddenly and suavely barged into the meeting. Frank merely kept his eyes gravely trained at Marcie.

 "It's not your maid's fault too," Frank added and Joe quickly glanced at the door to find another stressed-out servant imploring her mistress apologetically, "I barged my way in."

"Yes, he did, Madam. I couldn't stop him…" 

"Don't worry, Lisa. Go back to your duties." Marcie waved the servant away, taking a new interest in Frank, "I hope you have more to offer than your friends, Frank Hardy. I'm getting very bored by these visits. As it is, I have to schedule my trip to visit Colin's brother at a later date."

"Oh yes, I have, Marcie. But I will urge Colin to come down here and explain some very intriguing findings…" Frank reached into a brown paper bag he was carrying and scattered a few packets of assorted, unmarked pills onto the table, "I believe these are his."

Joe could hardly stifle a chuckle at Marcie's dumbfounded expression but the triumphant was fleeting as his heart twisted when he noticed Nancy throwing Frank an intensely admiring look.


	22. 21

Chapter 21

Psychedelic Hollow

Itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Recovering from that twinge of jealousy which strangely pricked him with the needles of guilt as well, Joe tried to find humor again in Marcie's shocked expression as he tottered behind the rest of them up the stairs but failed. He was envious, yes, but not because of Nancy's blatant admiration for Frank. In a way, it could be anybody else and he would still be a little sore. He knew there was always an underlying competitive current beneath the placid waters of brotherly love between him and Frank. Friendly, constructive and nothing detrimental. Yet, there were times when the _little brother_ in him just wanted to measure up to his big brother- and even surpass Frank. He wanted to be the one to genteelly intrude into the meeting; the one who could stun a draconian to speechlessness; the one with the cocky arched brow, extremely sure of himself.

Frank, probably sensing was amiss, stopped for a moment while Nancy continued walking almost alongside Marcie; and glanced behind, smiling at Joe who reciprocated weakly. He could still see the victorious glint in Frank's dancing brown eyes, which, as he realized now, was more than just arrogance. There was relief in the depths and through the look; Joe caught his brother's silent message. 

_This is it, kiddo.  We'll have some answers very soon._

Rather shamefully remembering that it wasn't competition that mattered now but  Justin's name and innocence, Joe smiled wider and jogged up the stairs two steps at a time to make up for the distance which he was lagging behind. 

_Silly me. Frank's feeling triumphant not because he thought he upped everybody but because there's a breakthrough finally. A breakthrough that can help everyone involved in this stupid mess find peace,_ Joe self-chided  as he caught up with his brother and Nancy.

_Sorry, Justin. I wasn't focusing. This is about you and only you. I'll clear your name; I know how you must have felt before you left us for heaven._

Marcie led them up the stairs and down the hallway on the second floor to a room tucked right at the back, away from the sun. Without preamble, she reached for a key in her pants' pocket and turned it in the lock, throwing the door open to reveal a murky interior.

"He's inside," Marcie coldly informed them, her eyes fixed on the room with unhidden disgust, "Lying on the bed since I fetch him from the station. Soon, he'll morph into his father."

"Thank you, Mrs. Brown. I think we'll like to have some time alone with him." Nancy requested politely and Marcie grunted, spun on her heels and marched away wordlessly, the sound of her stilettos clicking against the floor reverberated frostily off the walls.

Nancy and Frank exchanged a quick glance before entering the room, making Joe feel rather left out, as usual. If Colin's a pretty girl, then maybe there would be some role for him. But since Colin's a guy and, together, Nancy and Frank had a combine IQ of probably 350, Joe didn't mind just following behind them and letting them do all the work, witnessing, as an indirect guilty party, the chemistry reacting between them; very much like old times. 

"Hi, Colin. You have met us before. I'm Nancy. The man beside me is Frank and Joe's there by the doorway. Isn't it a little dark in here? Can we draw the curtains back?"

There was no sound from the pile covered by a blanket on the double bed. The only thing assuring Joe that Colin was indeed underneath the blanket was the rising and falling movements, indicting breathing.

"I'm going to draw the curtains now, Colin. And then we are going to ask you some simple questions. All you have to do is answer us very honestly, all right? We have some news for you too- bad news, I'm afraid." Nancy spoke, as if in a monologue due to the unresponsiveness of the subject, as she walked steadily towards the windows and drew the drapes aside, allowing bright sunlight to filter in. As if a curse had been lifted, the room seemed less ominous and when she pushed opened the windows to let fresh air in, Joe had a weird feeling of being freed from some suffocating bondage.

Colin growled under his covers but didn't move. Frank pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down while Joe took his place at one corner, leaning against the wall. Nancy stood beside Frank and it was she who pulled the covers sharply away, revealing a disheveled, unshaven and irritated young man.

"What the hell?" Colin muttered and turned away from Frank, only to face Joe who smiled and waved languidly. He glowered and tried to lift the covers over himself again when Frank grabbed his right hand and dangled a packet of tiny, white pills over Colin's eyes.

The sight of those pills caused Nancy's eyes to widen in surprise.

"Colin, I want some straight answers and if you do count Justin as your friend, then you better come clean with me. This, along with some colored pills along with packets of powder labeled 'K', the latter which I'll assume is Ketamine, is found in your dad studio's safe. He told he lost the key long ago and I found it hidden in the garage. Care to enlighten me on my findings?"

"I don't know what they are. If you believe my dad, then you're just as much of a fruitcake as he is." Colin spat, wrestling with Frank for control of his blanket.

"Colin, I don't want to be the one to break this news to you but it seemed like you have no idea about it. Justin died early this morning. From what I know, he didn't even regain consciousness to bid anyone farewell..." Frank eyed Colin gravely, setting the packet aside. Colin's expression changed from one of insolence to astonishment in an instant. He shook his head vigorously, giving a low, sarcastic chuckle.

"You detectives ran out of tactics? Resorting to emotional blackmail? Justin is fine. Ecstasy doesn't kill anyone."

"It does, Colin. It killed Justin." Nancy repeated the news softly, "Justin died with his name tainted. If you know anything that can help your friend rest in peace, do tell us. I can help you bargain for better terms."

Colin sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darting from Frank to Nancy and then to Joe. Justin's death weighing heavily on his chest, Joe couldn't do anything to meet Colin's questioning look but keep his eyes solemnly downcast. 

"I know you care for your friend. You helped us find him once. And only close friends who knows each other very well can guess one another's intentions like you guessed Justin's whereabouts so accurately," Frank said gently, "And you know Justin well enough to be able to tell us if he…"

"I don't know." Colin mumbled, interrupting Frank's implorations, "I don't know anything. You can talk to my lawyer or my mother. I don't know anything."

"Colin…"

"Please go. I don't want to have anything to do with liars." Colin curled up in a fetus position and held a pillow close to his chest, burying his face into its side. "Just go."

"Colin…" Frank prompted again but Colin cut him off, shouting into his pillow.

"GO AWAY! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I HATE ALL OF YOU! ALL OF YOU! GO! GO AWAY!!!!"

***

"…so our only lead is this Tobias guy. But he's not in Bayport now, according to his fiancée. Most likely, he's in New York City and I'll want him to be in New York City." Nancy updated Frank on her findings while Joe listlessly and deftly twirled a pencil with his fingers, having heard everything before and feeling extremely disheartened by the events. Justin's death didn't get easier to deal with each passing second. In fact, it got even more strenuous on his emotions. Couple that with Colin's reluctance to talk despite knowing about the news, Joe felt like some useless thing just hovering around Frank and Nancy who managed to keep their feelings in check to work effectively on the case. Maybe it was because they hadn't talk to Justin like he did or maybe they had nothing in common with Justin. Whatever the reason, Joe was morbidly affected, and it got harder and harder to concentrate.

Another part of him was vaguely amused. How could Frank and Nancy shift into such professional gear with all that had transpired among them and Callie? Kudos to his brother for really knowing how to separate affairs of the heart from business. Now, it seemed like nothing had happened as they both mulled over the case in Frank's office. There was no apparent awkwardness as the both of them simply just dove into the case when they reached Hardy Investigations. 

"Why? Nan, is there something that you didn't tell us earlier?" Frank hunched over the work desk, holding Nancy in close scrutiny. Nancy leaned back against the swivel chair and smiled grimly.

"The FBI actually has suspected very indistinct links between the supply of Rofomyn in the US with a mafia group called the Calabornes. The Calabornes' stronghold is in NYC and they conduct their businesses under very legit set-ups. Whatever we can bust only scratch the surface of their illicit dealings as they hide behind layers and layers of scapegoats. However, we only have suspicions, hunches and the word of very untrustworthy informants who can easily defect. Mine disappeared on me recently and I'm very sure if we are successful in this case, I'll see him in the round-up… hey… this chair _rocks_… where did you buy this kind of combination swivel arm…"

Frank's anxious tone broke Joe away from his pre-occupation. "Nan, don't rock too…"

_The chair! I have forgotten to fasten the screw!!!!!_

"OUCH!" 

_Oops…_

Crashing down onto the floor, Nancy struggled to sit up, rubbing her pelvic. Joe jumped up from the spare chair to help her up, so did Frank. She glared at both of them, refusing their assistance as she pushed herself up painfully by grabbing the table top. Frank threw him an annoyed glance and he grinned sheepishly at Nancy, rubbing the back of his neck simultaneously.

"Is this a trick or something?"

"No, Nan. Joe happened to the chair. Joe, let Nancy sit on your chair."

"Roger." Joe scampered over, happy for something to do, letting Frank handle the delicate situation. Frank was apologizing profusely to Nancy while Joe switched their chairs, checking to see that the chair he was sitting on was secured.

"What did you do to it? And why didn't you warn me? I think my butt's bruised." Nancy groused, sitting down very carefully onto the _safe_ seat, grimacing as she tried to make herself comfortable, "I'm going to be sore for days."

"If it's any consolation, at least it's not your face!" Joe chimed, clamming up immediately when Nancy shot him a deadly look. Frank sniggered uncontrollably, earning the same glower from her.

"Joe loosens screws on chairs so he can double them up as rocking chairs… I'm so sorry. Joe, from now on, you can only do this to your own chair outside…" Frank chided him with as straight a face as possible, "Unless I command you otherwise."

"Your wish is my command, Boss. Sorry, Nan… really. I guess I wasn't focusing."

"Then you should. Joe, we need your brains as well and we can see you're very affected by what happened. But we're a team and I'm sure you want to prove Justin's innocence fast, right?" Nancy's anger dissolved into serious concern. Frank smiled at him consolingly and patted his shoulder.

"Right bro. When it comes to work like ours, we cannot afford to be distracted. Other people depend on us. We can always grieve later."

"I know. But… I mean, I talked to the guy…" Joe sank down onto the rickety chair and leaned over, rubbing his face vigorously, "I thought I can practice control like the both of you but sometimes, I wonder if the two of you are heartless! Or too jaded! I can't, all right? Justin's dead; Colin's not talking; we have a Tobias whose face we don't even know!"

"Joe, listen. We not saying we can't feel. We're just saying that we have to put our priorities right. And right now, the case is more important than our emotions. Conrad didn't pay us to grieve for his brother." Frank reasoned a little too sternly for Joe's liking. He uncovered his face and bit his lips, looking away from Frank.

"Frank's right, Joe. Why don't you go wash your face and then come back?"

"Conrad didn't pay us to grieve but I like to think that I'm a human being." Joe shot back, "_With feelings!_ You don't seem to care about anything! Not Justin's death, not Callie's anger at you, _both of you. And yah, looking back, when you broke the news to Colin, you really sounded like you're using the information to blackmail Colin and it probably didn't even matter if Justin's dead or not!"_

A tense silence blanketed the small office and Joe knew immediately after the words tumbled out of his mouth that he had taken a cheap shot at Frank. Whatever the reason, whether he honestly begrudge Frank for being able to immerse in work so easily or that he was still angry at Frank for last night's fight, or that he really didn't like the close proximity still existing between Nancy and Frank,  he knew it was wrong of him to accuse Frank like that. Frank made sense- people depended on his equanimity in chaos and despair to get the job done.  

"Go wash your face, Joe." Frank mumbled, taking his place behind the work desk. Nancy gazed at Joe earnestly, as if she wanted Joe to just apologize and end this argument.

"I'm sorry, bro. Sorry, Nan. You're right, I need to get my priorities right." Joe muttered, his hands in his pockets. Frank shook his head and waved him on.

"Nothing to apologize for. I know we have our emotions, and more importantly, I know you." Frank mustered a strained smile, "I hope you know me too."

"I know. I… I think I want to go home for a while." Joe shrugged, smiling resignedly at himself. There, his motor-mouth had done it again. What was it with this case? Why had it caused him and Frank to keep flaring up at each other? Joe didn't want their relationship to sour but it seemed like there were too many underlying issues between the both of them.

"I will discuss the case with Nan for a while more too." Frank replied, his lips still stretching grotesquely with that smile which seemed more like a mark of disappointment. Joe glanced at Nancy and pointed to the door.

"I'll be going now, ahm, bye, Nan. I'm really, really sorry."

"Bye, Joe. Have a good rest. Maybe we can catch up in a couple of hours." 

With that, he left the office for home, feeling like a reprimanded dog with its tail between its legs.

***

"Are you all right?" Nancy gazed at him worriedly after Joe left. Frank stared at her blankly for a while before laughing softly.

"Yes, I am. Don't worry. Joe's under stress. I didn't take it to heart."

"He mentioned something about you and Callie and me… I think I need to tell you something, Frank…"

"Nan…" He interrupted her, not wishing to talk about anything but work. It kept him sane and seemed less complicated than his own life. If Colin could talk and with the new tidbit offered up by Nancy, maybe they would wrap the case up soon. The only problem now, as he saw it, was getting Colin to open up.

"Frank, it's pretty important…" Nancy persisted, her blue eyes gazing into his intently, "I…"

"I'm more interested in the Calabornes. Don't worry, Nan. It's not your fault. It's all mine. Whatever it is, I should have been a better fiancé to Callie. Who knows? Maybe Callie and I are just not meant to be."

"Did she come and find you?"

Frank dropped his head for a brief second, trying to swallow down the lump lodged in his throat, "We are keeping our marriage plans on hold indefinitely."

"Oh…" Nancy squeaked, "I…"

"So!" He exclaimed, injecting some enthusiasm to chase away the gloom, "The Calabornes?"

Nancy stretched her lips thin and stared at him contemplatively for a moment before letting out a deep sigh, "The Calabornes are filthy rich and disgusting animals. We _know_ they have a hand in every vice that exists on Earth and maybe even invented some. But we _don't_ have anything on them. We have very sketchy links between them and Rofomyn but nothing concrete. If we were to make hasty moves, we'll only be able to catch the small fries. Then they will lie low and clean up their tracks. The cycle will begin again and we'll never be able to penetrate their heart. Outwardly, they seemed to turn legit with flourishing businesses. We have tried to establish their outfits as fronts for their malicious activities but so far…" She wrinkled her nose and shook her head dejectedly.

"Maybe they will slip up this time."

"Maybe." Nancy remarked dryly.

Frank glanced at the clock. Time slipped away fast when they were racing against it for an urgent purpose. "Do you want to have dinner with me? We can order pizza delivery. I don't feel like going anywhere right now."

"Neither do I." Nancy reached across the table and took his hands in hers. It was probably a friendly touch of comfort but it just broke his heart even more. Knowing full well that he shouldn't be near her unless strictly necessary since his mind was made up, he was still unable to let her go. With resolve, he pulled his hands away and she jerked back, as if electrocuted.

"I'm sorry." She said quickly. He merely shook his head and nodded towards the door.

"Maybe I should send you back."

"Yup, maybe that's the best thing we can do right now." She acquiesced. They made their way to the front door of Hardy Investigations and Frank waited until she was out before switching off all the lights.

_There. Just like my life. All dim, cluttered and lonely._

He drove her to her hotel and they made small talk along the way. Somehow, he knew he would always remember the car ride as the end of something beautiful but finished, like a poignant painting already framed and hung. Any lingering bonds between them were cut, paving way for new connections like innocent friendship. They didn't openly acknowledge that of course. They simply _know._

Returning to his apartment, he switched on the lights and stood by the doorway, looking into his living space as if it was all alien to him- the furniture, the colors, the ornaments. He felt detached from them. Sure, he had seen his own apartment many times before but never quite like this. An image from the past interlaced with his present. He was sitting on Joe's bed two days after his brother took off- the same feeling of loneliness covering him like an abhorrent cloak which had chose to clothe him, promising to never leave him.

_"Look, Laura! Look at your fine son! He gave his brother money to run away- elope! Frank, are you suddenly stupid? Where can Joe go? How will he support Vanessa and the baby?"_

_"Better than anyone can, dad!  At least he wants to! And the baby has a name! Hallie!"_

For months he had been alone. Callie's love couldn't warm him. His dad wouldn't talk to him and his mom couldn't hide her disappointment. Frustration, rage and anxiety caused them to be exceptionally hostile creatures and home an ice palace. The only place he found some solace was Joe's room, going through every word and action of that fateful night he drove his brother to Vanessa's place, looking for assurance that he hadn't done the wrong thing and absolution if he had.

Until Joe's first email came and he knew his brother was alive, married and their baby was healthy, active and extremely chubby. How he cried silently as he read the mail from his computer screen, his tears a mixture of selfless joy and selfish sorrows. Then he printed it out and slipped the letter underneath his parent's bedroom door- it was that exact moment his loneliness dispelled as he took the first step to healing his family.

Nope, Joe didn't know the hell they went through. Joe _didn't have _to know.

Then it came back to him again when he decided to leave Nancy, knowing their love, which he abandoned Callie for, was futile- intense, passionate but nonetheless in vain. Loneliness, a friend obsessed, haunted his every step. Who was his savior then? Callie. Callie came back and somehow, with her concern, love and wiles, yes, wiles, she made a home in his heart. They had a love better than before; everlasting and indomitable they became. He scrimped and saved for the ring. And when his career took off, he bought this apartment.

This apartment. Ah. Now he knew why it was so foreign. All the furniture, colors, ornaments and layouts- he chose with her in mind. They picked many stuff together and everything was decided just so when they married, she would be able to call this place her own as well. Everything inside shared a common dream and served a common purpose.

Now that the dream was gone, everything inside lacked life and lustre. The home became an empty house serving the needs of the body but unable to provide the spirit a sanctuary. Unlike when Joe left, unlike when he broke up with Nancy, this time, this loneliness seemed permanent because he _knew her._

_She's not coming back, _he thought to himself, eyes welling up as his chest was crushed most painfully.

He stepped inside this house which no longer welcomed him and closed the door. Alone again, he slumped down onto the cool couch and gazed at the empty screen of the television.

_I know you, Callie. You're not coming back to me._


	23. 22

Chapter 22 

Psychedelic Hollow

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"Joe, can you stop channel surfing and hand the remote over to me?"

Indolently, Joe passed the television's remote control to his father who took it. Fenton sighed with relief as he switched to his favorite news channel with nary a glance at Joe.

Unhappy that no one was showing him concern since he reached home, Joe slinked down the settee part of the long couch and grunted. Indeed, Laura, Gertrude and Hallie, who just wanted to talk and talk without listening, were already soundly asleep. And Fenton didn't seem to care at all.

"Wars and more wars…why can't the world just live in peace?" Fenton grumbled at the scrolling headlines, "Look at this, Joe. Terrorists at work again. What's up with all the angst?"

"Sometimes, dad, a conflict takes both set of fists to start punching." Joe muttered, wishing Fenton was into sports. Fenton harrumphed and picked up the most recent copy of Reader's Digest, flipping it through. Yet, Joe knew that even though Fenton was preoccupied, if he should steal the remote back and change the channel, his father would be livid.

"Hmm, twelve-year old girl's pregnant and her boyfriend's only fourteen…tsk…" Fenton closed the magazine and threw it back onto the coffee table, "Why can't there be happy news for once?"

"There will be if we switch to the sports channel."

"And watch my beloved team lose? No thanks. I think I'm going to sleep."

"Dad, you can't just leave me alone here!" Joe protested to his father's surprise, "I need company!"

"Hmm, maybe you should go find a girlfriend." Fenton stood up and stretched, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "Good night."

"Hey, I didn't sit here listening to you comment and complain about politics for nothing! I mean, I was waiting for ages for someone to just ask me what's wrong! So sit down and… and ask me what's wrong!"

Fenton narrowed his eyes at him and Joe shrank into his seat, smiling at his dad timidly, "Ahm, please?"

"Well, I'm not such an insensitive father. I was sitting here the whole night, getting a headache while you jumped from one program to another in rapid, unceasing successions, hoping you'll just tell me what's bothering you. So, what's bothering you?" With a swipe of his head, Fenton sat down on his armchair once again and looked at Joe with concern, "Work? Your brother?"

"Work and my brother. You must have heard the news. Our client is dead." Joe muttered numbly, "His name's Justin and he had bad reactions to drugs. We established that it may be murder, as rat's poison is found in the pills that he purportedly took but his best friend, Colin Brown, is not talking. I'm very sure Colin knows something but he's keeping his mouth shut. Related to that is Frank's detachedness with it all.  I do admire Frank for being able to keep his feelings in check but when he could just focus again without seeming like he was at least somewhat affected, I began to have doubts, you know. And Frank should be affected! Any man in his situation would break down and confide in someone. His relationship with Callie didn't seem to bother him; Justin's death didn't seem to bother him… . I know Frank is not like that."

"Frank is just being responsible. He's doing his job and you should be doing yours too. Why are you home, looking for a sounding board when you should be out there, looking for leads?" Fenton asked impassively and Joe, feeling defensive, sat up straighter.

"Because I'm affected by Justin's death and I'm disheartened that we don't have leads, except for a guy who's not in town!"

"Has that ever stopped you before?"

"No, but…"

"No buts, Joe. You have dedicated your life to this career and you have to prove to yourself that you can shoulder the burdens that come with it..." Fenton softened his tone, most probably seeing that he was bristling by what was said, "You're grown up now, Joe. You don't need Frank to baby you anymore."

"I never needed him to…." Joe remonstrated but stopped when he discovered he was sounding too whiny to his own ears. Slumping against the couch, he folded his arms and frowned, "He takes it upon himself." 

"Maybe because, in some ways, you _want_ him to. Maybe it makes you feel like the both of you are as close as before."

"Are you saying that we aren't?" Joe dropped his voice to a harsh whisper, "Don't scare me dad… I mean, Frank and I are cool."

"We, your mom and I, are extremely_ ruthless to Frank for helping you elope with Vanessa. He told you that?"_

"No…"

"And Frank's first run-in with a psychopath had caused him to take an emotional scarring that he wouldn't tell anyone of us… did he tell you that too?"

Joe knitted his brows. Frank's first run-in. Yes, he read about it on the news and called Frank up to congratulate him. Frank just brushed it off and he didn't really probe Frank for details, more occupied with looking for ways to put down the phone when Frank _asked_ about his life.

"Ahm, well…"

Fenton smiled and stood up, patting Joe on the shoulder, "There, you have your answer. Frank isn't detached. He just keeps it inside if he thinks that by suffering in silence, he will be serving the greater good. To him, now, the greater good is helping your client. And I bet in some ways, Frank does let his emotions show, though not through tears or lamentations. He does it quietly, shows his concern via actions. Very much like me…" Fenton smiled to himself, "But I'm not as introverted. I will be like you when I can't handle it- demand for a sounding board. If only the both of you…"

"Yes, dad. If only we can be more like you etc. etc…" Joe groused, feeling the tiny prick of guilt. Fenton was right, how could he miss it? Frank did let his emotions show but he did it constructively. He spent some time off the case to provide the company of friendship at a time when Conrad positively needed it, didn't he? And the support was given without Conrad asking and despite Frank's own emotional turmoil. That was the mark of a true Samaritan.

_Frank didn't change…Joe concluded, the old glow of admiration and hero-worship for his elder brother flushing his cheeks, _Frank evolved. My elder brother.__

The he glowered, angry at Frank again, _And__ just as stubbornly neglecting his own needs as usual, warping more and more into an emotional masochist! Making all of us worried and even misunderstanding him!_

_Oh well, after this case, I think I should act like the little brother and command Frank to confide in me. _

"Thanks, dad. I should pick myself up, not despair, and look for leads…" Joe stifled a yawn. Struggling up, he indicated towards the stairs with a swipe of his head, "But after a good night's rest. Tomorrow, I'm going to march into Frank's apartment, apologize to him and together, we're going to crack our heads, solve the case and send the evil-doers behind bars!"

"That's the spirit!" Fenton punched the air with his right fist. They stared at each other for a moment before breaking into low chuckles simultaneously.  Ruffling his blond hair, Fenton smiled warmly.

"It's nice talking to you, son. I miss that. I'm sorry if I sounded harsh. In every sense, you're still young with a lot to learn. We should have this kind of talks more often. I do hope that you and Frank iron out your differences. Your relationship is pretty thorny nowadays, right?"

"Ahm…well…" Joe shrugged, "Never mind that. I'll settle it."

Halfway up the stairs to their respective bedrooms, Fenton spun around, almost knocking into Joe.

"Wait, your mom has been complaining that her shampoo is depleting real fast and I can tell she's subtly accusing me of using it, can you imagine that?"

Joe smiled at Fenton widely, absentmindedly touching his own hair. _Yup_, he thought to himself, _it definitely feels softer and smoother now_.

"No, dad, I can't imagine it."

"Hmm, just as I thought…" Fenton started up the stairs again, "You know, a real man use soap or cheap shampoo…unless they are on special prescription for hair loss."

Joe nodded in acquisition, "Right dad, nothing but highly alkaline soap for my hair, drying it to split ends."

Fenton made a noise which sounded like a sarcastic grunt.

About fifteen minutes later, Joe was on his bed, contemplating the day as he stared up at his ceiling in the dark. He was tired but he couldn't sleep. Reaching for his phone just beside his bed, he wanted to call Frank and make real peace when he heard a thud. He hadn't heard a sound like it since tenth grade. Even then, he was the one making the noise to wake his then- girlfriend who was sleeping in her room late at night, just to catch a glimpse of her scowling face by the window.

He turned towards his window and scrunched his eyes against a beam of light shining into room. Another stone hit his window pane and, irritated, Joe marched over to give the troublemaker a piece of his mind.

"Hey!" He yelled out of the window, "Stop that! Or I'll… Colin? Is that you? Wait there, all right?"

The sullen teenager switched off the torchlight and leaned against the maple tree- the guardian of their backyard. Wasting no time, Joe pulled a t-shirt hurriedly over himself and raced out into the backyard. Silly youngsters. Couldn't they just use the phone?

Colin was thankfully still where Joe last seen him when he arrived. Though it took Joe less than minute to get to the backyard, he knew enough about Colin to be afraid that he might just decide to split. They stared at each other for a prolonged period before Colin looked away, dropping his cigarette butt onto the ground and stubbing it with his foot.

"So, how did you know you'll hit the right window?"

"I don't." Colin replied dispassionately, "Justin's dead."

Joe exhaled heavily, not knowing what on earth he could say. Colin probably ascertained it from the news.

"They described him as the nineteen year old male who is facing charges of drugging and attempting to rape his girlfriend who died from the date-rape drug, Rofomyn."

"Did they? I didn't watch the news."

"You don't look the kind." Colin remarked wryly. He paused for a moment before spiting hard on the ground. 

"I just came to tell you guys that I got the Ecstasy pills from a guy called Ol' Bart. He has a lot of fancy drugs and he sells them to me for a discount. He came over to my garage and told me about this 'enhanced' Ecstasy pills and gave me a packet to sample. He told me to share it with Justin and so, I did. I'm not into Ecstasy though. I passed it to Justin and we decided to smoke weed and get high on Ecstasy. Justin couldn't wait to try them out. Anything to take away his pain, he told me. And he also said it would be his last trip. He promised his brother and himself that he would get clean and as he was popping a pill down, he tried to convince me to do the same. Ironic, isn't it?" Colin chuckled derisively, "And I told him, yah, sure. When the cows jump over the moon. We laughed and he eyed me sadly… I… I don't wish him harm. Never did. Justin's more than my best friend. He saved my freaking life. That's why we are so tight, like brothers. We should be brothers. Connie doesn't treat his brother nice. " 

Joe puckered his brows, absorbing in the information. If those pills, worth quite some money, was just _given to Colin with specified instructions to share it with Justin, then Justin's case would be murder, not drugs' complications. _

_Not only the murder of Justin but also, the attempted murder of Colin.___

"Colin, no dealers will freely distribute drugs around. I think you do suspect foul play here and that's why you came to me with this information."

"I don't know." 

"All right. Then do you know where is this Ol' Bart?"

Colin shrugged and folded his hands across his chest, shivering lightly as he rubbed at his arms, "I don't know. He wasn't down by the Quay, his usual spot for his trade, when I went to find him earlier." 

A glint of metal protruding out from Colin jeans' pocket caught Joe's eyes, causing his heart to skip a beat. Pointing warily at the pistol's handle, Joe asked softly, "Why did you want to find him?"

The youngster threw him a sardonic smile, "I went to kill him. He killed my best friend. I want justice."

Joe stared at the youngster, shocked by the admission though he had thought he was mentally prepared for it. Still, Colin could have done something that night that would ruin whatever was left of his life and Joe was glad that firstly, Colin didn't find Ol' Bart. And secondly, Colin came to him.

"You want to come in? There's some food and hot drinks that we can whip up." Joe swiped his head towards the back door, "And I'll call my brother and we can go through the details again, all right?"

"Aren't you going to turn me in? I just admitted my intention to kill." Colin laughed sharply, "They will love to have one more charge against me."

"I don't think you'll actually do it. You came here, didn't you? And I guessed if you have taken such pains to find my address, tell me about Ol'Bart, then you must have somehow already known what the right thing to do is. It's just a matter of time, Colin. I know you'll tell me all there is to know about what happened that night with Justin and his girlfriend," Joe studied Colin's pale face which glowed hauntingly under the muted moonlight, recognizing the all too familiar mark of guilt, "Maybe, by divulging the details that you know, you can set yourself free from a burden. Who knows, you may save your life. If Justin's death is indeed murder, then you are definitely still in danger."

Colin seemed to diminish in size as he slouched against the tree even more, staring up at the sky. Abruptly, he turned towards Joe and smiled shakily, "Justin mentioned you. He said you're the smart detective who can get him out of the mess without… I… that's why I came here. I'm not going to kill Ol' Bart. I just thought I'll threaten him. But I guess if he was around tonight, I'll be dead. The gun is not loaded at all."

"Damn right you'll be. Come with me. Let us sort this out. I'll call my brother and we'll see how to go from there."

Colin scrutinized him for a moment before nodding finally. Joe led him into the Hardy's kitchen, never, for a moment, letting the boy out of his sight in the event that Colin should decide to split. When he settled Colin in, he picked up the kitchen phone and called Frank, keeping a close eye on Colin who was gorging himself silly at the counter with leftover cookie and milk.

***

"Hey…" Frank clapped Joe's back as he stepped into the house via the kitchen's door, "That's him?"

"Who else can it be? Mary Poppins?" Joe glanced at Colin from the corner of his eyes. Colin looked at Frank with haunting wariness. Under the bright florescent lights of the kitchen and against the dark backdrop of the living room, Colin's pale, gaunt and vapid visage appeared to Frank as a man slowly emaciating into a ghost. A lump caught in his throat as pity and revulsion washed over him fleetingly. 

Joe leaned over and whispered into his ear, "Ahm, I know you have your reasons for being detached but let's be soft on him, shall we? I managed to get him to relax with some food but we didn't talk anymore on the case."

"Sure thing…" Frank strode across the distance and tapped Colin's shoulder from the back, "Hello, Collin."

"Hello." Colin muttered sullenly. Cookie crumbs had gathered at the side of his cracked lips and somehow, made him seemed much younger and vulnerable than the acerbic personality he was before. Frank sat on the counter stool next to Colin and nodded towards his emptied plate.

"You want more of that?"

"No."

Joe, who had taken a seat on one of the lower chairs by the kitchen table, shot him a prompting look. Without the need for verbal clarification, Frank knew what Joe was trying to nudge him to do.

"Colin, I apologize for, well, what you do call that? Emotional blackmail? And if I sounded tough on you, my apologies too."

"No need. I know you're doing your job." Colin replied," I told Joe everything."

"Everything?" Frank prompted gently, "Joe gave me a rundown. I'm not going to pressure you but I think we should worry for your safety, base on what you told Joe."

"Joe said the same too." Colin dropped his head and breathed heavily, "I don't know, you know. I really don't."

Frank threw a quick glance at Joe. This time, logic and cool reason was not going to cut it. Joe shrugged, indicating that he had already tried.

"Colin, I don't wish to assume anything. But before I came over here, I just got a late night email from the police's lab. The white pills I found in your father's studio are really Rofomyn, the drug that Kimberly had a bad reaction to and died from. I'm not trying to emotionally blackmail you but I'm really trying to make sure nothing worse than what had already happened will transpire," Frank lowered his voice, hoping that his sincerity would break the dam, "If Ol' Bart tried to kill you once, he will try to kill you again."

"What will telling you anything about the Rofomyn help my life?" Colin shot back, "Ol'Bart may most likely be trying to kill me. The only way to save my life now is for you guys to go and get him!"

"We will, whether you tell us or not. Sometimes a life may be saved not by the sole virtue of assuring its existence." Frank assured him and decided to leave it as that. Colin turned his head and threw Frank a lethal look from the corner of his eyes which he ignored. He left the seat and clapped Joe on the shoulder.

"You have any idea where Ol'Bart may be?"

"Nope. I checked Bayport's directory before you came and there must be a few hundred Bartholomews, Barts and two Bartleys in Bayport." Joe replied numbly. Apparently, Joe was just as disappointed as him that Colin wasn't talking still. Yet, Frank could hardly fault Colin. Everyone was guided by self-interest. Justin was dead. If Colin confessed to anything, he would surely be put in jail and it would definitely not be a bed of roses. Still, the charges that Colin was already facing wasn't easy even for the most intelligent lawyer to wriggle him out from.

"The police knew about the white pills?" Colin suddenly asked, his voice small and afraid. Frank curled his lips thinly and nodded.

"I have to turn in the evidence."

"Crap." Colin swore and mussed up his hair violently, "It's really Rofomyn?"

"You didn't know?" Joe asked, a hint of surprise in his tone. Frank was too and he sat down next to his brother and waited for Colin to spill.

"Ol'Bart came to me once and said he had this cool drug called Rofomyn and how he was one of the few dealers around the New York area who has it. He told me to thank my lucky stars that he's in Bayport now. At a huge discount, I bought a packet from him. I don't believe they're Rofomyn but I can't resist the temptation, you know. I took it and regretted it because even with the discount, it's expensive. And I'm not some heartless creature. I know that rape is bad and thus, I just threw it into the safe with the rest of the stash and forgot about it until that night at the rave party. Ol'Bart came up to me and asked me if I had any fun with those pills. I can't really remember what happened but I recalled…it seemed inconsequential then… but I saw Ol'Bart hovering in the warehouse for the _outsiders like Kimberly but it didn't seem like anything. Even though that part is generally drug-free, some people there still do them and maybe Ol'Bart was fulfilling some transaction. I don't know. I didn't really care. Maybe he drugged Kimberly. He always thought Kimberly was cute. And maybe he wanted to kill us because Justin and I know that he has Rofomyn and may link him to Kimberly's death. Justin also knew that I have some of the Rs. He came by to the garage to confront me. I told him I didn't drug Kimberly and he believed me. We then decided to get high and he died." Colin looked up and stared at them suspiciously after neither of them spoke for a few seconds, "What now? It's the truth!"_

"Okay…" Joe dragged, "What do you think, bro?"

Frank wasn't convinced that Colin was telling the whole truth. And he had lied to Colin himself- he hadn't sent those white pills for testing… yet. However, right then, he just wanted to get his hands on Ol'Bart and end a large part of the mess.

At least, Colin had indirectly told them that Justin didn't drug Kimberly. They could work on that later. A murderer was still at large.

"Do you know where Ol'Bart may be?"

"I told Joe that he wasn't at the Quay where we often go and find him for stuff. Besides that, I have no idea." Colin deadpanned, "That's your job, okay?"

"But you can help us along. Can you remember about Ol'Bart that can help us figure who he is, for example, his car license plate etc.?" Joe asked. Colin scrunched his eyes shut and scratched the back of his head. As Frank and Joe looked on expectantly, Colin lifted his head and nodded slowly.

"Yah, I do. You got pen and paper?"


	24. Announcement

Announcement again  
  
I'm sorry guys for not updating. I've only recently relocated from Singapore to Brisbane for my Master in Arts and there're a thousand and one things I must do first which are more important, like getting classes sorted out, research papers proposals and mundane, bring stuff like that. Please be patient. I promise to have the next chapter up by next Saturday and it'll be more regular after that!  
  
Thanks and please continue reading! In any case, if you are in need of my stories (ahem), you can try HomeComing if you haven't read it yet, Seekers (that will keep you busy for months!) and A Glass of Wonderland which I wrote under the nickname River Song. Get it? Ocean is like vast and deep- for more angst-filled, controversial, gruesome stuff. River is like more shallow and safe... gentler and happier... so I write things bordering on absurdity and innocence with it... (  
  
For a taste of real angst, Ocean style, please visit www.hardydetectiveagency.com for original fictions on the Raily Brothers which I modeled after the Hardy Bros. Their relationship is everything that Frank and Joe's is not.  
  
Thanks again!  
  
Ocean 


	25. 23

Chapter 23

Psychedelic Hollow

Itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"Bartholomew Melon. Here's the whole dossier on him that I can put together at such short notice." Nancy glanced at her watch and smiled wryly, "Another record's broken."

Frank picked up the thin brown file which Nancy had dumped on his lap the moment she got into his car and thumbed through it, furrowing his brows when he saw that Nancy had highlighted and circled the known addresses of Bartholomew Melon. From the car license plate details that Colin gave them, he was able to track down Ol'Bart's real name and current address. Nancy, with her access to the vast FBI's database, dug up much more interesting information though.

He handed the file back to her and started the car engine, maneuvering his way out of the hotel's porch. From the corner of his eyes, he caught Nancy barely stifling a yawn. He could hardly fault her- it was three a.m. in the morning after all.

"Want coffee?"

"No, not now. Let's just get to the place. If what Colin told you is true, this Ol'Bart may be the weak link to the supply of Rofomyn and _frankly_ speaking…" She slanted her blue eyes towards him and grinned lopsidedly, "Pardon the pun, I'm really sick of this case. Been working on it for almost a year. But at least right now, I am feeling positive about this lead. Ol'Bart has been in and out of prison for drugs related charges until three years ago. So Joe's staying with Colin?"

"Yup. Colin didn't want to go home and we don't feel too comfortable leaving him alone." Frank narrowed his eyes at the previous conversation with Colin, "I asked Joe privately to sound him out if he has the chance. Something about what Colin told us just doesn't click."

"Why?"

Turning into a street close to the quay where Ol'Bart's apartment was situated, Frank scrunched his eyes against the bad lighting of the area, scrutinizing every building's name for the right one, "Because he only volunteered the information of Ol'Bart loitering around where Kimberly was partying when he thought I had sent those pills to the police for testing. Since this information will only help clear the suspicions surrounding Justin and even him, I see no reason why he would want to hide it. He should be more than happy to provide us with the knowledge."

"He didn't call your bluff?"

"I was lucky. Those white pills must be Rofomyn. I counted that he had nine of them."

"Nine- weird number of pills to buy, right?"

"Maybe it added to a nice round number in terms of price." Frank slowed down, afraid that he could have missed their desired destination, "Nan, help me keep a look out for Klington Apartments? I can't seem to find it."

"You haven't driven past it. I _am_ helping you look." Nancy clucked her tongue with mild disgust, "How stereotypical. A drug pusher making his home in perhaps the darkest street in town."

"Those who deal with shadows like to live in shadows."

"Or maybe some wire blew a fuse and caused the lights to die..." Nancy patted his shoulder excitedly, "I see it! Stop here. Klington Apartments!"

Sliding the car expertly into a parallel parking space, Frank got out of the car and retrieved his equipment from the boot. Nancy whistled lowly at the metallic box he was carrying and nudged him teasingly, "Make-up?"

"Yup. Just in case I need to transform into a pretty girl." Frank replied wryly, "Or transform you into a vixen or something."

"No thanks. We can think of something else if the role of a vixen is needed. Seriously, what's inside?"

"My tools of trade. If he's not in, then maybe we can gather some clues from his house. If he's in, we can always say that you need to have your cosmetic set with you just to feel comfortable." 

"Being around you and Joe make me feel so attractive." Nancy groused to Frank's amusement. Somehow, it was easier being friends. He could relax without his conscience weighing down heavily on him. Nancy too was making an effort to be unaffected and he appreciated that tremendously. If only Callie could call him or give him a chance to explain. Yet, in a way, he that if she called, he wouldn't know what to say because all she had accused him of were true. 

They passed by an unattended security counter in the foyer and walked up the stairways. Frank frowned, having caught a glimpse of the inactivated monitors. However, not dwelling anymore on the subject, he and Nancy paced down the hallway of the third floor looking for the right door.

"This is it." Nancy paused in front of a door which surface was interspersed with fraying splinters, "Think he will be awake now?"

"Night creatures. This will be his sunny hour."

Snorting at his ill-attempt at a quotable quote, Nancy knocked on the door and they waited. After a prolonged moment, they tried again…and again. No one answered the door. Before Nancy could turn and discuss with him their next course of action, Frank had already taken out his set of lock picks.

"Ahm, Frank? I don't have a warrant for this guy yet. Anything we mess up cannot be held in court as evidence."

"I'm a very tidy person, Nancy. I just want a look inside and you can always get the warrant in the morning to, well, recover whatever clues we found tonight. Give me, a poor, close to bankruptcy private investigator a chance, will you? And since when have Nancy Drew bothered with _legalities?_" Frank grinned at her, fiddling with the lock. She shook her head, worry ghosting her pretty features. He decided to assure her with some basic observations- details he was pretty surprised that she hadn't picked up.

"Don't think he's in too, if that's the second thing you're afraid of. No light is escaping from under the door and it's awfully quiet."

"What if you're wrong? What if he comes back? What if he's only sleeping?"

He looked up and curled his lips in serious contemplation, "Then you think of something."

"Frank Hardy!" Nancy hissed but did nothing to stop him saved putting on an annoyed expression and standing with her arms akimbo and legs apart.

He chortled lowly, hearing the satisfying 'click'. "Where's your sense of adventure, Agent Drew? I think you should quit the FBI and let down your hair. Come in. Welcome to the humble abode that's not mine. But first thing first…"

Slapping on a pair of gloves, Frank handed another pair to Nancy. Deftly, he switched on the lights and immediately, the light-hearted mood dissipated as the gravity of the case sank into their consciousness at the sight of a pair of lifeless, pale, plump and hairy legs sticking out from behind a seedy couch which was splotched with more than just beer stains. Exchanging a wary glance with Nancy, he approached the body steadily while keeping an eye out for any form of ambush.

"I'll check the room." Nancy informed him brusquely and he nodded, kneeling beside the body which was face up behind the couch, its vacant eyes staring futilely up at the ceiling and its jaws slacked. Instantly, Frank discerned that the man was probably shocked upon seeing the barrel of a gun pointed at him, the last sight he glimpsed. A clean bullet hole was drilled into forehead as a pool of blood, still damp, spread under the man's head- the man's key to Pearly Gates or Dante's inferno.

He wasn't dead for long- his body still had a touch of warmness to it.

"Looks like nobody else is here." Nancy muttered, emerging from the bedroom, the silent smile on her lips had disappeared as she once again morphed into the no- nonsense and crisp FBI agent. "You noticed anything?"

"Besides the fact that he was probably only initiated into a whole new metaphysical world where his flabby body's not needed? No. But I'll estimate from the temperature that his departure couldn't be more than a couple of hours… we'll need forensics to discern that." Frank stood up and clucked his tongue, "This man definitely resembles the photo in your dossier, just a lot less colorful. Let's look around first while we wait for the police to arrive."

"You didn't inform the police, Frank." Nancy drawled, already scanning the room for a possible place to start searching for evidence. Frank walked over to the kitchen area and an opened address book by the phone caught his attention. Anticipation hammered at his chest when he noticed that the page the book was opened at was torn halfway.

"No? Hmm, think about it, Nan. I'm sure I did. Take a look. Someone's looking for somebody else…" Frank gestured towards the book, "I'm going to dust for prints."

As he set to work, retrieving the powder, brush and film from his box, Nancy called the police and reported the crime crisply. He grimaced after a futile investigation with the book and the phone - another careful culprit. If only robbers, murderers and all evildoers stopped being so cautious- Frank Hardy deserved some easy time. Examining the address book again, he noticed that the ripped page was marked with a huge T on top and thus, studied the rest of the entries which were written with a sloppy hand.

_Crap!_

Pulling the gloves off his hands, Frank dashed out of the door, dire instincts blocking out reason and rationality, spurring him on with a prayer that they were not too late.

***

Heavy-lidded but alert by sheer will, Joe watched Colin silently as the younger man drifted off into another one of those chills-inducing spells. After Frank had managed to obtain Ol'Bart's address off the internet via some dubious website flirting with the disapproving eye of law, Colin, as Joe noticed, became a little more anxious. It was almost Colin was forcing himself to co-operate while deeply afraid that they would discover something perilous to his own interests.

Now, Colin was staring into nothingness with those vapid eyes of his, sitting on the high stool, rocking back and forth, hugging himself tightly as if he would fly apart anytime soon. Then, he would relax and shake his head before the shtick repeated again-one continuous loop of eeriness and reticence.

"Hey, I can see you are going to blow. For the hundredth 'last time', if you have anything else to spill, you better spill now."

Colin shook his head vigorously.

_"I didn't send the pills for testing. It's just to make him nervous. See how readily he came forward with new information?"_

_"A little white lie. He sure fell for it. But I wonder what's he hiding?"_

_"Isn't it obvious, little brother?" Frank clapped him on the back, "Alrighty now. I'm going to check out on this Ol'Bart lead with __Nan__, you don't mind that, right? Just felt that Colin bonded most with you so…it's best that you stay to watch him and to catch anything that spills out from his mouth."_

_"Go ahead. Just tell me before you make anymore moves or anything."_

"Colin, it's about Rofomyn isn't it? Were you lying about seeing Ol'Bart around Kimberly?

Colin shook his head. Joe sighed- this gentle questioning was leading nowhere. He pulled a barstool in front of Colin and sat on it, facing the troubled teenager who was sinking deeper into some quicksand with each passing second.

"Colin, maybe that night you didn't see Ol'Bart around Kimberly. Maybe you just wanted to 'help' your best friend along.  That night, Colin, did you slip something into Kimberly's drink and then gave Justin a couple of ecstasy pills, telling him to go 'have fun'?"

"I didn't see a thing. Look, I told you guys everything, all right?" Colin, awoken from his nightmarish reverie, glared at Joe, "I'm risking my life here, coming forward with information. And so I think the least anyone can do now is to appreciate what I'm doing and shut up!"

"Colin, I don't think you came here just to come forward with information. It's kind of hard living a lie, isn't it?"

"Who gave you the right to judge my crap?" Colin shot, increasingly hostile, "I'm beginning to doubt that you're as cool as Justin said you are."

'Fine, I'm not cool. I don't care. Cool is overrated. Think about it, Colin. It's your call, not mine, not your mom's, not anyone else's." Joe turned his attention to the counter and poured a glass of water for himself. Frank was gone for quite some time and worry was slowly gnawing away at his chest.

Colin sucked in a deep, audible breath before slouching over the counter top, resting his head on his folded arms. Joe knew he was put there as bodyguard and it was really no fun guarding an almost body. Just as he was about to reach for his second glass of water, the phone rang and he jumped to his feet. Colin too sat up with a rude jolt.

"Frank? Where are you? Found anything?"

His heart was almost pounding his chest to bits when Nancy's voice came over the line.

"It's me. Frank dashed off suddenly and I'm going after him but he took the car. Can you go find him?"

The impact of a _bad news_ knocked the breath out of Joe. Recomposing himself, he calmly digested the rest of the information from Nancy. After which, he woke his parents up. Without much need for explanation about the turn of events, as was the culture in their household since time memorial, Laura kept her anxiety silent, betrayed only by the slight quaver in her voice when she told him to be careful. Fenton merely nodded and guided Colin to the guest room.


	26. 24

_Before I begin this chapter, I'll to address concerns that __Nancy__ is overshadowed. The line about Frank assuring __Nancy__ of basic observations has to be taken in context that I'm writing in Frank's POV. It'll be weird if I explained too much like, "Frank decided to assure her but he knew she would have noticed it…". Frank doesn't know everything that __Nancy__ thinks and he's entitled to a wrong opinion once in a while. Secondly, __Nancy__ voiced even more reasonable explanations for Frank's observations. She saw the same things but while Frank is certain that there's nobody in (his excitement and narrow judgment in this case forced him to see only one explanation), __Nancy__ thought of other scenarios which, if true, will jeopardize their safety. As a FBI agent, Nancy could be tempered somewhat to be more adherent to rules and regulations because she knew the workings of the law and knew that it would be a waste if evidence were messed up and the criminal got away. A lot of what I said, since they are in characters' POV, has to be taken in that context, I repeat. And I try my best to explain the inner workings of the other person or persons through dialogues, their actions as seen by the POV character etc. Me no expert in writing but me trying so pardon me if I wrote some stuff that didn't seemed right._

_Again I repeat, I want to explore the dynamics and I also explained somewhere that I'm first and foremost, a Hardy Boys' writer. I have my biasness, as with all writers. My apologies for that. And if truth be known, I'm extremely neutral towards Nancy Drew, which is worse than hating her character in some ways. _

_As for Frank dashing off, it's kinda explained in this chapter which was written long before I read the comment. And then in the last chapter. Nothing to do __Nancy__ but everything to do with Frank's solo years which I hadn't got a chance to write yet._

_Thanks for reading._

_Ocean_

Chapter 24

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Nancy disconnected her mobile phone and promised herself to give Frank hell when Joe found him. Dashing off into danger and leaving her alone in a dingy apartment with a dead body for company? Unacceptable. Making her worried and anxious such that she couldn't even think clearly? Irresponsible.

She was in Ol'Bart's room when she heard the sounds of hurried footsteps. A few seconds too late, she caught up with Frank just as he sped away in his Lexus. Short of seeing Ol'Bart's ghost, there wasn't any reason she could come up with for Frank's sudden disappearance.  Then she remembered- Frank had been interested in the address book by the phone. Rushing back to the apartment, she took a look at the address book and knew exactly what could have caused Frank to have acted the way he did. 

She might have done the same as well.

However, she had already done what she could. There were no cabs in sight and even if she called for one, it would be a few minutes before it arrived- precious minutes she couldn't afford to spare. Joe was already on his way, so were the police. She couldn't be there to cover Frank but she could watch his back via proxies.

_Stupid, stupid foolhardy male!_

_Frank would be fine_, she stopped cursing Frank and tried to assure herself, _He will be fine. _In Ol'Bart's apartment alone, waiting for the police investigators to arrive, Nancy Drew muttered a silent prayer before retreating to Ol'Bart's room, having spotted some worrisome findings before being distracted by the clamor caused by Frank's exit.

***

Tobias Anderson. Frank was willing to bet his whole, miserable fortune that his entry was the one which was ripped away from Ol'Bart's address book. Maybe whoever hastened Ol'Bart journey to the realm of the dead hadn't Anderson's address. Whatever it was, when he instantly linked Ol'Bart's death, the missing page and Nancy's mention of the mafia group, the Calabornes, everything just clicked. The murder was too clean and the act was too cold-blooded - that of a professional who knew what he was doing. Being in this line for so long, Frank had learned to rely on his senses.

_Ol'Bart__ crossed the Calabornes by slipping up. He hadn't killed Colin which could be the weak link __Nancy__ needed to break the case and trace the Rofomyn source._

_Careful now, Hardy.___

He hadn't hollered for Nancy to accompany him but it wasn't because he was swimming in his own arrogance that he could have the job done by himself. In fact, now, he was self-berating. He should have taken his partner along. However, he was, perhaps, too accustomed to working alone after all those years and it was easier to remember that he had to cover someone than to remember that he had someone else covering him.  It too seemed imperative at that second that he acted immediately- that even a second delay would be calamitous. Joe often gave him less credit than due for acting upon his instincts. He strongly believed that coincidences were product of activities spurred by the subconscious mind. It never rest and drew trends, linkages and knowledge so quickly that the mind would only be able to understand the information already known after the impact of _suddenly knowing_ dissipated.

So it was better sometimes to just _go along_, as Joe would say. He already knew. Now, he was just affirming his knowledge and hopefully, he could save some lives and obtain some answers. 

It was his first time visiting Tobias Anderson's house but he knew exactly where it was from Joe and Nancy's accounts. The neighborhood was a homely one, a place where children could run wild on the streets and still be safe. It had been on Frank's list of "good places to settle down in" but there were no vacant land or houses to purchase.

With the silence and darkness of the night as both his adversary and friend, he parked his car a distance away before stealthily making his way to the picket-fenced house, using the overlapping shadows as handy cloaks. He was going to deal with someone whose footsteps were surer in the absence of light than in daytime. Yet even with the sun high up in the sky, the man or woman would be lethally dangerous. He wasn't hoping to outmaneuver any hit-man but he was counting upon the element of surprise.

It _had_ to be on his side.

The front door was ajar but the house was unlit. Frank pushed it lightly and heaved a sigh of relief, thankful for the well-oiled hinges. Softly treading, his heartbeat racing out of control, he willed his eyes to accustom to the darkness and himself to calm down. Silence, heavy and reeking of danger, clothed him heavily and his throat dried from the dreadful anticipation. Crouching slightly, he reached for the gun he kept hidden in his pants' pocket and readied himself. Joe would be shocked to know that he was armed but that was another reality that his kid brother would have to deal with. It was Joe's choice, of course, if he wanted to arm himself. But Frank knew it was futile to throw things or attempt flying kicks twenty feet away from where someone was about to shoot an innocent being. His reasoning may be flawed but it made sense. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be his first time.

Joe obviously hadn't read the more detailed news report of his first run-in with a psychopath, a victory hollow in its bloodbath.

He climbed up the stairs and it was then fate intervened and silence became a friend. The click of a gun echoed and Frank raced swiftly to its direction- a bedroom to the right of the stairways. A bald figure, darker than night, poised over the blanketed lump on the bed like a viper about to strike.

A shot rang out. The man hollered in pain, clutching his right hand as his gun clattered to the ground. Frank kept the gun trained at the assassin whose bland features were eerily bathed in the moonlight. The oddest thing was that Tobias Anderson wasn't awakened by the noise.

The assassin noticed it too as his eyes darted to the figure on the bed and then back at Frank again.

"Hands up where I can see them. You have no escape."

"Oh? You think?" The man smirked. Ignoring the pain, he reached for the blanket and flipped it away, never letting Frank out of his side except for that split second where he glowered at the inflatable doll with its grotesque, neon red lips. 

"Not only do I think, I see. The police are coming. Hands up and surrender."

"You know, I have been in this line for so long. I and my partner are never caught…" The man pulled the switch for the night light and smiled at Frank- the orange light making him seemed sadistically benign. Frank saw that the bullet had only grazed the man's right palm but it was still bleeding considerably. Next, he felt the barrel of a gun pressed into the base of his spine.

_Partner! Damn!_

"Yes, partner. You should see the look on your face… Don't even bother to surrender. The dead do not have the privilege."

_***_

Joe sped to Tobias Anderson's house, taking every short cut and breaking every speed limit without feeling too bad about it. _If I have tickets,_ he thought to himself grimly, _Frank will pay, literally._

Skidding the car to a stop, he got up and slammed the door, looking up at the orange glow coming from one of the bedrooms' windows on the second storey. The back of a lean, bald man, dressed in black, could be seen but Joe hadn't the time for further observation. He dashed into the opened door and raced up the stairs, causing such a huge commotion that another skinhead, standing by the bedroom's door, also clad in black t-shirt and jeans, turned sharply towards him. 

It was then Joe spotted the gun in the man's hand, now pointing right at him.

"Oh no, you don't!" 

From inside the room, Frank crashed into man and knocked him onto the floor, the man's chin jarring painfully with the hard ground. Joe stood still for a moment, his jaws hanging when Frank yelled at him, "There's another one inside! Quickly!"

Springing into action, Joe hopped over his brother and the struggling fiend to find the original man he saw from outside the house crouching down, trying to reach for something under the bed. Immediately, he pounced on the man and landed a fist on the side of his skull, causing him to clip the other side of his head against the bedside table.

Joe punched the man's chin just as he was about to retaliate, and reached under for the gun he caught a glimpse of under the bed. Quick as lightning, he trained it at the man's forehead and that caused the man to still, clutching his injured right hand. __

_Strange, I didn't hit his hand..._

"In you go! Crouch down low, next to your _partner!_" Frank barked, aiming a gun at his captive's head as well. The baleful look Frank's man threw at them gave Joe the shivers but he knew they could do nothing but hail silent curses upon the Hardys.

With his free hand, Frank clapped Joe's back just as sirens wailed, waking up the neighborhood.

"Thanks, bro. Your appearance was timely."

"You're the one that said there's no such thing as coincidences." Joe couldn't return the affection as he had both his hands on the gun. He wasn't afraid of handling one- it was the destructive power he wielded that made him squirm inside.

Yet, he noticed that Frank was handling his expertly and even though he was indeed intently focusing it on his man, his manner was _casual_.

_Or maybe it's just Frank- calm and composed about everything._

"Right. I said you were timely." Frank smiled wryly, "There's a difference. And right now, it will be no coincidence that these two are going to be in jail for a very long time."

Frank's man spat on the ground but was rendered paralyzed by fear when Frank cocked the gun.  

And Joe caught his brother's expression in the window; not liking the cavalier look on Frank's mien which he knew wasn't faked to scare the man at all.

_I know you evolved brother- this case taught me plenty._

_But just how much have you changed?_


	27. 25

Chapter 25

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Nancy sat across Tobias Anderson in the interrogation room. The man was clearly tired after hours of fruitless questioning by the police. She hadn't taken over until then because she was investigating and putting together certain findings, drawing correlations and expounding theories. Now, even if Tobias should deny anything, it wouldn't matter as they had a compiling case against him and a new _insight_ into Rofomyn which could, perhaps if the Bureau was lucky, bring down the Calabornes as well.

But that would be in the future. For now, she had broken new, important ground. Maybe the veterans would take over. Nancy was due for a break and some commendation. 

A part of her smiled delightfully.__

_Maybe not.___

They found him embracing a quivering Lisa McCain tightly in the basement of their house- its entrance hidden underneath the carpeting. It was that sight of a slight man, probably only about five foot seven and thin as a stick, trying his best to protect his fiancée which tempered Nancy's judgment of him. The future, though, didn't look good for the soon to be separated lovebirds.

"I'm FBI Agent Drew."

"Lisa told me you visited her."

Nancy smiled grimly, "I hear from the police that you haven't been co-operative."

"What's there to be co-operative about? You probably think you know everything anyway. Even if I was to insist I'm innocent, it makes no difference." Tobias raised his head, his black hair falling limply over his sunken dark eyes, "I have a crooked nose and a too-sharp chin. One look and the jury will determine me as guilty."

_Yes. You have nothing to be co-operative about. It's the Calabornes you crossed. Damned if you tell us everything, damned if you don't. Makes no difference, you're right. _

Still, she opened up the manila folder and then threw him a blank look, "I have with me your previous addresses, convictions, your mobile phone records as well as those of Ol'Bart and the hit-men, Sean and Gerald Brody. Funny how the four of you have called this common number- you and Ol'Bart on quite a few occasions, and Sean and Gerald on the day news of Kimberly Crawell's death hit the media. The number belonged to a guy called Reginald Orson, the CE of a pharmaceutical firm based in New York, called LifeMinerals. Do you know that Orson had long been suspected by the FBI to be linked to a mafia group headed by the Calabornes?"

Tobias shrugged and smiled at Nancy wearily. She decided to continue, watching his expression carefully. It was as if as she spoke, a pall had descended upon his face and in his eyes, he was already facing his executioner.

"You and Ol'Bart thought to kill Justin and Colin via Ecstasy pills. The police were hot on Justin about the Rofomyn and you know sooner or later, they will trace it to Ol'Bart and then you if Justin broke down and reveal what he knew. And you have dipped your hands before in contaminated batches, haven't you? Each town you stayed in have one or two cases of teenagers succumbing to ill-effects from contaminated Ecstasy. Anyway, no one will have suspected foul play and it would have worked perfectly if Colin had taken those blasted pills as well. But fate should intervene and Colin, unluckily for you, didn't ingest those pills. But looking at the phone records before me, I'll gather it makes no difference if you killed Colin and Justin or not. The moment Kimberly Crawell's death is made public, the Calabornes placed a bounty on your head because you are directly linked to Orson and thus, you are too close- too dangerous."

Tobias laughed nervously, shaking his head.

"Is Kevin McCain in on it too? You know about his financial difficulties. You offered him money for the use of his warehouses as rave parties' sites. The money is good, isn't it? There's no way you could have afford all that you have given Lisa on a salesman salary. Last we check, you don't even have an occupation. Last we checked, you have a huge supply of drugs, including Rofomyn in a locked trunk in your attic and your fingerprints are all over the packages inside."

"Kevin isn't in on it, neither is Marie or Lisa." Tobias spoke finally, his reedy voice soft with regrets, "I rented the place from Kevin, telling him I was doing some business on the side and needed some place to stash some of my goods. He was grateful for the help."

"You checked out of the hotel you were staying at in New York on the day that Ol'Bart died. What made you think that your life, and Lisa's, were in danger?"

"I don't." Tobias clammed up again, "I only saw two men coming towards my house with guns so I hid with her in the basement."

Nancy closed the file and looked at Tobias intently, "I'll let you think about your answers. Either way, it doesn't look good for you. If you help us arrest the Calabornes, you may even be granted immunity, as a witness."

Tobias narrowed his gaze at her, his eyes contemplating gravely but he said nothing else. 

***

Nothing could have prepared them for the sight.

The day of Justin funeral was also the day for Colin's court case. It was almost ominous how the skies cried that morning- how melancholic gray dawn was when they woke up. Even though the rain pouring, there was no lightning or thunder- the heavens were not striking out in vengeance. Cold and tragic, the rain pelted the leaves of trees, hammered the droopy flowers, pounded onto the ground, demanding an answer and yet, receiving the hollow answer of nothingness in return.

_Dear Mom,_

_I'm sorry. All my life, I know I have been the blight that caused you to clench your hands with regret, the pebble in your shoe that you just can't shake away. Yet, I also know you loved me the best you can. And that's enough, really. I'm not even a Brown but you let me have the name. I am the manifestation of your mistake and I guess I am a pretty good personification of it as well. It's okay. You gave me life and despite many qualms I have against it, there are moments, deep, joyous moments that being alive for even a second it worth it._

Policemen cordoned off the garage and tried to steer onlookers away- especially the few who were so curious such that they didn't know they were inching too close towards the tragedy for comfort. Harold Wain leaned against a wall, his gaze hollow and his mouth gaping, as if in shock. The wails of a mother- wounded cries of a heart shattered by regrets, anger and anguish- pierced the air chillingly. Marie Brown, dressed in uncoordinated t-shirt and jeans, her hair uncombed, was cradling the dead body of her son, Colin, rocking him to and fro as if he was still a baby and needed that calming motion to help him sleep, soothing him with a lullaby that could wake the dead.

_You see how I talk about life as if it's a dreadful thing? Truth is, mom, my life is extended by the compassion shown by someone for a stranger. In the basement toilet of my school, long debased by boys who couldn't aim, the blade almost kissed my wrist. But he saw me, mother. Justin, my only friend, the one you hated, saw me and stopped me. We didn't even know each other then. But he reached out his hand and I took it. We became friends. Those were the moments I believe I lived for as it was only when I'm around him that I felt truly alive. How can I not? He gave my life back to me._

Colin- the difficult young man. A noose hung at rest above him His eyes were closed, his palsied skin cold and slack. A bluish tinge colored his lips- lips that would never open, lips forever closed to halt those sarcastic barbs. No one would ever know the workings of his mind because all who cared were already dead. Perhaps it was then that Marie felt the closest to her son. She did loved him, after all. Joe could tell. He shivered a little and Frank draped an arm across his shoulders. Calming down, grateful for the support, Joe leaned a little against his brother, hawking down a lump constricting his throat.

_I know you will never be able to understand the world I live in. I don't understand it myself too. It got so that I begin to wonder which is real- this world or the one I retreat to? The psychedelic swirls, the dances with wolves and yes, crinkled skies splitting apart, raining down beams of neon lights… I remembered laughing and I remembered waking. I remembered the hollow I felt as the colors I saw echoed before my eyes. I honestly don't know which hell I prefer. But I think I'm going to find out._

There was a suicide letter and a confession. Nancy already told them that the log book she found in Ol'Bart's apartment was flooded with entries of all who bought drugs from him. Under Colin's initials, CB, there was a record for ten Rofomyn pills. Frank found only nine in Colin's stash. 

Yet, knowing Colin used one pill wasn't the same as knowing why. The confession shocked many to silence and disbelief. Colin had much to hide- Justin hadn't known just how much of a friend he was to Colin.

_I owe Justin three lives, mom. I owe him Kimberly's life, his life and my own. So now, I'm giving one back to him. That night, mom, is something I can never live with. Up till now, I don't even know where I found the guts to perform such perversity and why I didn't have the courage to face up to it. Yet, when someone is so near and yet so far, the yearning is impossible to comprehend and the devastation of my heart each day is impossible to bear._

_He is innocent, mom. Let the world know that. I cannot, after all, betray a friend and let his name be poisoned by the venom of lies. That night, it was I, in my moment of folly, who drugged the drink. But the drink wasn't for Kimberly. She came along and said she was thirsty. He kept the colored pills but handed her the drink._

_I can't say a thing, mom. I watched her drink it down. I remembered bitterly thinking about the waste before being hit by the guilt and disgrace. I thought it shouldn't matter. Maybe things will work out. He will have what he was shamefully dreaming off during the hottest hours of the humid nights. And I will not have turned most vilely traitorous towards the one I love the most._

_But she died._

_Mom, do you see? I am scared to death; fear and shame had rendered my soul cold with fright. The colors aren't pretty anymore- I see hues and shapes forming into putrid, rotting monsters coming to shackle and torment me for eternity. I'm so frightened, mom… you will never know. You will never understand. But can you hold me like how you used to hold me? Close to your bosom, singing me a song, easing the hollow I feel eating me up from the pits of my guts. I remember those moments from my childhood. I remember them everyday of my life._

_I do love you, mom. I do love dad too. In my own, hostile and thorny nature, I do love all of you. And I know the both of you do love me too. It's just that sometimes in life, now I know, things just don't work out the way we want them too. But I'm a coward. I really can't bear to stand trial. _

_So hold me mom, for as long as you can for once they bury me, you're never going to hold me again. Remember you have me as a son just for today and forget me for always. You have brother and sister, they do you proud. It'll be okay. I know you're a strong woman. You will move on. And you will help dad along. I know you love him too. There is really nothing standing between you and him now. Your love will no longer be scandalous._

_Your son,_

_Colin_

_P/S: I always wanted to be a writer, mom, not a bum ensnared in his own psychedelic prison._


	28. Conclusion

Psychedelic Hollow

Conclusion

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

"Thanks, man, for this impromptu farewell." Conrad raised his beer can and toasted Frank. Frank gazed out into the open sea from where he and Conrad were sitting, up on top Angela's Cliff. Far away, he could make out the scattered dots of lights from downtown Bayport which was just a little beyond the pitch black sea. Dark waters below, the velvet sky above, he felt a little alone as the refrain of some sad song replayed over and over again in his head.

For the past couple of days, Joe had been in the dumps because of the case and Frank did his best to cheer his brother up in between counseling Conrad and calling people he invited to the wedding to inform them that it was cancelled. Joe wanted to help but Frank thought it was best if he did it himself- he did let Joe call Elle though. He was rather wary of the sharp-tongued lady. 

Now that Joe was back to his normal self, he could let go of some of the detachedness and feel a little- just a little. Not too much though. He needed energy now for other matters- making sure Conrad was okay, settling things between him and Nancy and of course, Callie. But for now, he could take a moment and respectfully mourn Kimberly, Justin and Colin- the three young souls, wasted away by bad luck, moments of foolishness and, perhaps, some shared alienation from the rest of humanity and even those they loved.

Besides, if he felt too much, everything he sought to shelve away would come tumbling out of their bursting cupboards- his old cases, the 'Perfect Crime', the lost innocence. Ah, to be a quarter of a century old and wading through some of the most perverse secrets of the human hearts was no easy task but that was what his job demanded.

He gulped down the rest of his beer and crushed the can, setting in on the ground before picking up the next one and pulling off the tab, "Hot night."

"Yah." Conrad muttered. Frank caught the sparkle of Bayport City in his friend's dark eyes. Conrad, having lived his whole life in Bayport, was admiring the view atop Angela's Cliff for one final time.

"Decided?"

"Nothing's left here for me anymore. My brother's dead, my mom's dead and my dad's in Riker's… I think this place has enough awful memories."

"So where are you going?"

"Someplace where no one knows my name." Conrad smiled at Frank poignantly, "Where I can start all over again. Maybe settle down, have a family and name my first boy, Justin."

Frank sipped the cold, creamy beer, a soothing treat on that humid night, "Sounds good. Take it easy, man."

"I'm cool. Not going to jump off here or anything. Pity about Colin though. I should hate him, you know, for what he planned to do to Justin and then how he refused to take the blame… but I don't. In a way, I think Justin and Colin are pretty much the same creatures inside. I just wish both of them are in a nice place now without the mysterious troubles that plagued their minds when they were alive." Conrad flattened his can and lay it beside the previous two that he already had, "That's my last one… and I mean it. Last one."

"Good."

"You're on your third can too."

"Astute." Frank said with a mirthless laugh, "Don't worry. I don't plan on driving."

"Listen, man… I know somehow this case caused you and your fiancée to break up. Whatever it is, I'm sorry. But I think if you love the girl, you should go after her and not sit up here with your miserable friend, drinking cans of beer and doing nothing, you know. I spent a lot of my time doing nothing, so did Justin. And it's pretty wasteful." Conrad draped an arm across Frank's shoulders, "Pretty wasteful."

Frank shoved his hand into his pants' pocket and felt the ring box with the ring that his father wanted him to put on Callie's finger. To put in his whole heart into chasing after his happiness- the truth was, after all that had happened, was he still able to give Callie unsullied peace and joy? Did he deserve her?

He set down his half-full can and smiled at Conrad gratefully, "Yup, pretty wasteful."

***

Joe slammed the boot shut and clapped his hands clean of the dust which had gathered on the rented car. Nancy was inside, studying the road map intently under the weak orange light, chewing on one end of a pen. She was heading to New York where she could assist in the Rofomyn case of which her part was actually fulfilled. Joe paused for a second to admire the view before slipping inside the car. Yes, she was really adorable now, looking like one of those pretty girls in the library conscientiously mulling over her books.

"All in." He climbed into the passenger seat and peered over the town map, "Aw, it isn't that hard to find your way from Bayport to New York City. Anyway, while I don't want to sound like some nagging old man, you should drive in the morning, the visual is better and it's safer."

"I'll be fine." Nancy muttered carelessly before dumping the map on his lap, "I want to go for coffee first. Want to join me?"

"Don't you want to wait for Frank?" Joe asked, "I think he'll like to bid farewell to you."

"He's not coming. I didn't tell him I'm leaving. I only told you."

"Oh…" Joe scratched his head and smiled sheepishly, "I thought you forgotten about me since you informed me like two hours ago."

"It's a rush-rush thing. They called me and told me to cut short my happy time." Nancy smiled at him, "I will love to stay for a few days more since I remembered someone telling me that he would like to show me around."

On impulse, knowing very well that the history between Nancy and Frank would make any kind of serious relationship between him and Nancy awkward, Joe took Nancy's right hand and clasped it tightly, "I can show you some pretty amazing sights in two hours, if you'll spare me that. Seeing it's close to dinner time and you'll want to eat too, I know a great place, just two streets away, that we can go to."

"Are you flirting with me, Hardy?"

"Only if you want me to, Drew." Joe winked at her and she laughed lightly, snatching her hand away. Remembering the awesome kiss which was heart-flutteringly incredible right up to the point when they were caught by Frank, Joe was caught between loyalty to his brother and wanting to just see if there was anything more besides the almost harmless flirting and teasing. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Nancy smiled softly to herself, probably thinking of the same thing too.

But she was most likely still in love with Frank and her heart still broken. If anything was to happen, he would be, at best, a substitute. And it would strain the relationship between him and Frank. Not worth it at all.

_Why am I feeling this way? _Joe growled inwardly, _Why must she suddenly seem so pretty to my eyes?_

_I'm just a big, bad flirt… _

Clearing his throat, Joe stared at his knees, suddenly very shy, "I, ahm, I can drive you to New York City… we can take turns. It'll be fun and… and well, I can do some… ahm, shopping for stuff… manly stuff, I mean…razors, blades…frozen chicken…"

Nancy patted his shoulder and he turned to look at her. They stared at each other for the longest time before bursting out laughing together.

"It wouldn't work." Nancy spoke first and Joe nodded in acquisition.

"Right, it will never work."

"Not in a million years."

"Not in a million, gazillion, million gazillion years."

"Never, ever, never."

"Never."

Nancy let out a huge sigh and turned away, "I feel terrible for the mess I made. Frank absolved me somewhat but…. I should have moved on earlier, you know. I woke up this morning and it hits me. I was devastated that he didn't choose me but not as shattered as I think I would be. I guess it was an answer I wanted, but it doesn't mean I'm necessarily in love with him still. Looking back, I'm not even sure…maybe it was the sense of injustice and being rejected which boiled such strong emotions in me… You think Callie will forgive him?"

Joe shrugged, "I don't know. He hadn't the courage to face her yet."

"This is what happens when we are too attached to the past. Somehow, we fail to see the opportunities in the future. I think I have just ruined one." Nancy gazed at him weirdly. Joe looked away- the tension between the both of them was too overbearing- guilt, excitement, fear and anticipated exhilaration rumbled in his stomach. But he knew whatever it was, it definitely wasn't love.

And right then, Frank was more important. There were many girls out there but he had only one beloved brother.

"Never, ever, never." Nancy repeated before Joe could express similar views, "But dinner sounds good."

_Never. But a little flirting doesn't hurt…_

He grinned at her, at peace with the decision, "Sounds good to me too."

***

A few hours ago, the night had been unbearably hot. But the weather was the most unpredictable force in Bayport, especially in the days when it couldn't decide to remain in summer or move on to autumn. The sky had been pouring with no signs of letting up. Joe too was in a dilemma. He wanted to throw open his windows and enjoy the cool air but it brought in the rain to wet his furniture as well and if he closed them all, it would be too stuffy to sleep. Defeated by indecisions, he trotted downstairs for a glass of warm milk and wee morning television. The dinner with Nancy had already digested and his stomach was growling. As he warmed the milk, and allowed the silence to settle around him, he thought he heard some pretty, out of tune slurry singing from the backyard.

"Yesterday……..

All my troubles seemed so FAR away

Now it looks as thought they're here to STAY

Oh I be-eee in yesterDAEEEEEEEE……"

_Oh no…_

He threw the kitchen's door opened. There Frank was on the ground, his back against the wall just beside the door and his legs sprawled vulgarly. Singing, or rather, shouting hoarsely to the sky, drinking rain-contaminated beer, he seemed to be enjoying the company of misery with the rain soaking through his clothes and into his bones.

"YEETERDAE!!!!!!!"

"Shh! Frank!" Joe hovered over his brother and tried to wrestle the beer can out of Frank's hand, "We have to go in! You'll fall sick like this!"

"Donch care! Wanna beeeeer…." Frank drawled, weakly resisting Joe's attempt. His grip came loose and Joe flung the can far away into the backyard, "Hey…"

"Hey you back! You'll wake mom, dad, Aunt Gertrude and there'll be hell." He hunched over and lifted Frank up from under the armpits, wrinkling his nose at the same time. Frank stunk of alcohol and vomit. 

"I can stand…" Frank muttered as he pushed Joe away, "Sheee… I am standing…"

"Good, now, let's go in…" Joe supported wobbly Frank and tried to steer Frank towards the door. Sheesh, his brother was heavier than he remembered. 6 feet 1 of lean, dense muscles. Frank turned around, suddenly growing anxious. He broke away from Joe and ran out into the backyard, slowly circling in one spot, looking like he was close to tears.

"My brelly…I wanna my brelly…where's my brelly? Wanna my brelleee…"

"Brelly?" Joe ran out into the rain, hoping to drag Frank back to the house as quick as possible, "Oh… I see an umbrella. You mean brolly?"

Frank nodded, gazing into empty space miserably, "Brelly."

"I'll go get it… you stay here for just one second." Joe hurriedly walked over to the overturned golf umbrella. He drained the water and closed it before jogging back to Frank and returning it to his outstretched hand.

Frank took the umbrella and cuddled it happily, "My brelly…"

"Good, now we're going back."

"Don't take my brelly!" He glared at Joe, "Don't take it!"

"I won't. Can we go back now?" Joe draped an arm across Frank's shoulders and practically pushed him towards the door. Frank dropped the umbrella and stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around and gazed at Joe hauntingly.

"She's not coming back to me, you know?"

"Frank…" Joe gripped Frank's shoulders and squeezed them reassuringly, hoping to settle it quick so they could get back inside and dry up. "It's all right. Just go back in, have a good rest and we'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Callie's not coming back. Joe thinks I'm some heartless jerk and Nancy hates me. I'm such a loser." Frank hung his head low, a sorry sight compared to his usual quiet confidence. Joe felt a prick of guilt, knowing that whatever pushed Frank to drink like that wasn't just Callie alone. He probably carried too much weight onto his heart and now, it was shattered and he didn't know where to find support.

He hugged his brother and patted him calmingly on the back.

"It's okay… Joe doesn't think you're some heartless jerk. Joe just misunderstood…"

*"I'm going to hell too. I shot him." Frank pulled away and burst out crying, waving his hands about "He shot my arm. No one could stop him. He was going to shoot the little boy. But I shot him and so he can't shoot the boy. Bang! He died… I shot him…and they said I'm some hero…"

"Frank…" Joe wasn't prepared for the admission- he gathered that Frank had underwent some sort of trial by fire during his solo run-in with a psychopath in Bayport some years back but he didn't know just how demanding the case was on Frank. 

And he didn't know what to say. He wished he had stayed on the phone longer, he wished he had asked some concern questions instead of hastily congratulating Frank on the success of his case and saying goodbyes.

"I shot him! And now, I'm not getting married, my brother hates me and everything is crumbling to dust in my hands… I'm going to hell. I'm not happy…" Frank moaned, burying his face in his hands, "I'm not feeling very well..."

Joe pulled Frank back in an embrace again, his own eyes welling up. How could he just think about his own happiness, his own displeasure with Frank and how he didn't like the changes in Frank without even bothering to stand on Frank's side and try to understand?

All along, Frank had protected him and coddled him. The couple of days following Justin's death, he had shuttled in between checking on Conrad, checking in on Joe and dealing with his cancelled wedding.  And him? He took a couple of days off to be gloomy.

All along, he had thought he was the only one besotted with troubles, the only one needing everyone around him to show him affection and love. He was the one who couldn't work effectively for his client's best interest when hit with setbacks and he dared blame Frank for being too good in his job! He was the selfish one!

"It's okay, big brother. I'm here. We'll go in and I'll take care of you. You're going to be all right." Joe soothed his sobbing brother. In the rain, he stood with Frank, letting him cry out his demons as he vowed to annihilate each and everyone of them.

In the rain, he held his brother and let him cry.

***

_"Callie! Please! I just need to talk to you!"_

_"Shut up, jerk! People are trying to sleep!" Callie's neighbor, a pimply-face man, yelled out from his window. Frank ignored him and continued calling out for his one true love from across the small lane. He could see Callie's shadow from behind her thin, lacy curtains. What he wouldn't do to just be in her pink, cozy room again, lazing next to her on some sleepy afternoon as she tried to read some novel. _

_And what he wouldn't do to just hold her and nuzzle her hair, breathing in the scent of sweet, calming lavender mingled with her natural aroma._

_"Callie!"_

_She had paused and was probably in a dilemma. The rain pelted into his eyes and he rubbed at them, trying to catch a better glimpse of her figure- those amazing curves in between girlishness and womanhood. Finally, the curtains parted and she glanced outside before shutting them again._

_"Callie, please! Just a second! It has always been you! Always! I love you, Callie Shaw!"_

_"I said shut up!" The man from next door threw a spit bomb down at Frank who deftly jumped out of the way. _

_Her figure disappeared from the window and he knew she was coming down. He knew she couldn't bear to see him catch a chill- times of how she fussed over him when he went to her house after a game of soccer in the rain coursed through his veins an undulating ache. She appeared with a towel and an umbrella. His heart soared. She was going to give him a second chance!_

_"Callie, listen…" He gushed as she held on to the umbrella with one hand and with the other, tried to dry his hair. He grabbed her towel hand and gazed deep into those beautiful hazel-brown eyes. Callie, his love… how could he had been so blind and deaf to the angel right before him then? His heart twisted as she looked away from him, dropping the towel to the ground._

_"I love you, darling… please, look at me…We don't have to get married or anything. We can take baby-steps. I'm willing to do anything, anything at all, just to have you forgive me and smile once again."_

_She looked up at him finally, her eyes brimming over and her lips quavering. He bent over slightly, wanting to kiss the top of her nose when she whispered brokenly, passing the handle of the umbrella into his hands._

_"Go home, Frank. It's over."_

-The End-

Song butchered by Frank: "Yesterday" in Help! by The Beatles. Recorded in 14 June 1965

*To be further explored in an upcoming Frank-solo story. Glimpses into this story is peppered in Homecoming as well.


End file.
